The Captives Set Free

there seems to be another person
deep inside, struggling to get out.
wondering what it might be like to
                 surface
and walk around for a little while.

strange how i discovered them
the first moment you looked at me.
they were in the reflection of
              your irises
                    like through a glass darkly
peering back at me, wondering
if it was safe for them to escape.

the imminent jail break
   happened when you told me you love me.
the riots swept through the prison
and the captives demanded another
day spent in the sunlight
       requesting the warmth like water
   wanting to drink it dry
                  ingest it
just in case they wouldn't see the
          light of day again.

yet somehow, when i hold you,
i think about tomorrow as though
i have a tomorrow waiting for me.
and i think about all the things
i've taken for granted
                                   (or maybe not taken for granted.
                                         maybe failed to appreciate
                                         as much as i should have.)
and i want to clutch them to me
like a drowning man learning to swim.

      maybe you could be my buoy
    maybe you could be my mirror
  maybe you could teach me to hear
                          music in the silence
                         softness in a whisper
                         the voice inflection of
                         somebody saying, "i love you,"
                         for the very first time.

maybe you could hold the key
and turn the lock so i might know
                   how freedom tastes.
how to touch heights
              further
          than my reach.

i'll be standing here and watching
while you lead me forward.
           and i will walk beside you
in case i need to clutch your hand
                           and hold it tight
while i take my first step forward.