To a first love

Dear Dear Lover,
who am I, but who I am with you?
I am afraid
I’ve never known anything but what I’ve compared to you. To you
To you I’ve given everything, but withheld
Everything
For fear, fear is my mistress
My unwilling well to which I’ve poured
My Being,
My Soul,
My possibility.
I am sorry.
Find it in you to Forgive me
what I cannot myself.
All of the universe
given away
to nothing, when it should have
been yours.
It’s what I meant,
But I could not bring myself
To give.
I wish I was, but I fear I never
was, at all.
Just a waste,
of the universe.