Pope Francis

When you were thirteen
You crashed your mom's car
on the boulevard
because you saw how pretty girls were
and you didn't want anyone to know.

That's okay now.
Hush, darling, I understand.
It's hard to love,
Even harder to love something you think will never love you back.

But you can't have your sweater back.
Your favorite blanket
The fluffy, cool-to-the-touch comforter
is mine now.    

When you said your parents were visiting
And that I'd have to stay at my sister's
You cried like I'd never seen you before.

Like how my mother used to break down
after we'd fight, acting like we'd never come back from that point.          
I thought that was behind me,
but instinct takes over, I suppose.

You will always be my favorite thing
And I will never have the strength
or the will
to leave.

At the end of the night
I'll never stop being in love with you.

Sharing your bed will never come difficult for me,
Even if you can't tell your parents.