This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Tampa chapter.
Breathe easy, my dear.
Let me bear the weight you’ve had to hold.
Let me lay next to you when you get old.
Old.
You will get old.
I refuse to see your body lying cold
When I know that your fire’s burning.
I cannot stop the world from turning,
But I can be your atlas.
At last,
Someone who will hold you up.
Not drain you down,
But fill your cup.
Rest your weight upon my shoulders.
Moving mountains
Starts with boulders.
I cannot fix you.
I will not try.
But, I can hold you when you cry.
I can love you when you lie.
I’ve lied and cried and I’ve lost too,
And I’ve still come crawling home to you.