Terms of Endearment

love began when you realized you loved me.

you sneak it into every other sentence as if i didn’t know my own name.

it’s my name when you miss me when you’re away.

it’s what i hear attached to every good morning and good night.

“yes, love?” or “no, love” seem second nature to you by now

but we both know there will never be no love as long as we’re around.

love is for long days that lead to dozens of calls from you in the middle of the night.

i pick up at 2:00 a.m. and feel the drops of water on the back of your neck

soak my hand through the phone.

the way your sleepy voice sounds like home

and reassures “i’ll be fine, love” through a faint, invisible smile

reminds me how lucky i am that you’re mine.

you call me baby when you need me or need something from me.

i’m “baby, come here” and “baby, could you please.”

i’m baby while i’m rolling my eyes and laughing at how i fall for you with flawless ease.

calling me baby is tyrannical manipulation at its finest.

you know damn well that it makes my knees weak

and spreads a warm blush across my cheeks,

and that i’m the one who will fall every time.

the word is a wink within itself.

one well-timed “baby” in my ear during a crowded conversation

is enough to get my attention

to look up towards your dark eyes colored by your light heart’s dark intentions.

i’m always darling, every day.

i’m baby on the weekends and love on the weekdays,

but since you first saw me, it was always darling that stayed.

sometimes you cut off the letter g

because you know your attempt at a southern drawl makes me laugh.

i’m darling in your arms, holding me while i cry until i can’t see.

it’s my signature on birthday cards and the blank spaces below polaroid photographs.

you call me darling so often it feels like a game,

so much so that i’ve often wondered if you remember my actual name.

you let it slip once,

my heart from your hands and my name from your tongue.

i didn’t understand why you were mad at me,

but i knew my real name’s gravity.

“don’t call me that,” i choked out through hot, angry tears.

“that’s not my name.

my name is the unconditional adoration that drives your decisions and the aching that pierces your heart like a butter knife.

it’s the soft lullaby that sings you to sleep and the love you’ve been waiting for your entire life.

call me what only you can call me;

for only i can call you mine, and only you can call me yours.”

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I wrote this love poem for my AP English Literature class's poetry competition! It was like March Madness. Different poems written by each anonymous student would go up against each other every day. The poem with the most votes within its bracket would move on to the next round. Out of 100 poems, my poem made it into the final four! I'm really proud of it. It's completely based on my imagination, by the way. I was inspired by certain actors and fictional characters... *sigh*