Dancing on eggshells

I was in love with the way you walked,
with how you carried yourself
and how your feet danced upon the ground.

I was in love with the silence
that wrapped all of the ends of your sentences
and how your voice hitched everytime
you were upset.

You used to call me princess
and I would melt.
And you used to have that glow in your eyes
when you would watch me from the audience.

It's never been easy, you know.
How sometimes I would wake up
and you wouldn't be there,
there would only be a note.

I fell in love with your handwriting
because there was never too much of you
to hold in long enough for you to stay.

We were never estranged as people, as humans
but we were as spirits.
Yours danced on cloud mists,
mine tiptoed on eggshells.

There were things you never seemed to care about,
like how your fingers sometimes hurt on my skin,
or how much more I would fall in love
when you would ask for coffee when you meant tea.

I fell in love with the bandages
that at times covered my skin.
Because it felt like you left a part of yourself on me
on purpose.

I was in love in the way you walked
how you carried yourself
and how your feet danced upon the ground.

I was in love with the silence
that wrapped around the times we were together
and how your head would sink to the seat
when you listened to me sing.

You used to call me princess and my knees would shake.

But I wasn't in love with you,
but in the question if your feelings were true.