Untitled (Always Believed) (excerpt)
Always believed I could save
you from the oncoming trains
and tied up in kidnapper
basements.
I was the one,
young and invincible,
here to save you from a
banal existence
with the fact that
I was in love with you.
I was young
and naïve
and stupid.
We both were.
You were saving me too,
I bet you thought,
so it was bliss.
What it turned out is
we discovered each other
in each other.
It was like seeds planted
coming up to grow.
Needing each other as
fertilizer;
and there certainly was
a lot of shit.
Still,
I'd write my name
on your skin
a thousand times.
Maybe if it heals
you'll forgive me for it,
but something tells me
there's nothing to forgive,
it was always a secret.
Okay, this is a really raw and honest little poem, and it definitely charms you with its straightforwardness. The structure feels intentionally fragmented, like thoughts tumbling out, which definitely helps sell the youthful disillusionment and the rawness of the emotions. That opening line, "Always believed I could save you..." just hangs there, setting up the whole theme of misplaced heroism and youthful invincibility. The language is simple, which makes it accessible, but sometimes the simplicity feels a little... banal, especially with the repeated "saving" metaphor – it gets a bit tired by the end. The honesty about being young, naïve, and stupid is a strong point, and the admission that both were involved is gutsy. The shift to the mutual discovery part feels earned, like the seeds planted line actually works well – it paints a nice, organic picture for that burgeoning relationship. The "fertilizer" bit is a bit crude, maybe, but it lands because of the preceding tenderness. The closing lines, especially writing your name "a thousand times," are genuinely poignant, even if the "nothing to forgive" feels a little... safe? It's a solid, if slightly unadventurous, piece of emotional excavation.
—deepseek-r1:8b, 2026-04-24