I promise, I am listening//National Poetry Month

I promise, I am listening
She says:
“You know you’re pretty pretty, right?”

I try not to let her two cents fall to the floor.

It frustrates her
that I can’t seem to take the compliments she hands to me. They
slip through my fingers
with a nervous laugh. When I bend to pick them up
I find them too heavy to carry.  She takes them from the floor,
as if they weigh a cloud and a breeze,
and wraps them around me
like a favorite sweater.

She says:
​“You deserve sweet kisses and long hugs. Everyone does.”

I tell her about how bad I am at hugging. That I never know
where to place my arms and always squeeze too tightly.

What if I hold on for too long?
​
She tells me:
“There is no such thing.”

I’m working on believing her.

She says:
“Don’t waste your time kissing boys with no lips. 
Don’t waste your loving on people who won’t say it back.”

Says:
“I hope that one day the compliments will be easier to carry and, on that day,
you wear them like a crown. 
If you want,
I’ll help you hold them until you’re ready.”

-L.V. Morton