This holographic poem
Was written by the personated tree
That reminds me of you

For although I may lack the valour
To emancipate your battered heart
I'm hoping this far-flung poem
Not to be mistaken for amatory

But rather a gift
From the stairs
That take comfort in the echo
Of your whispered secrets

This inessential concoction
Of words has been formed
By the stand-still bench
Trapped in the memory of you

This incongruous composition
Of cluttered abstractions
Was conjured up by the
Missing skin on your wrists

The world gave up on you,
A little too soon.

They couldn't see the man,
Behind the beast.

Some didn't care enough,
Some didn't dare to.

You flashed warning signs,
When I ventured around you.

You let your guard off for me,
I let my secrets confide in you.

Some days flowers bloom in us,
The other days we crush them to nothing.

You grow cold towards me,
Shatter my heart without making a sound.

I scar you in the daylight,
Find comfort in your embrace in the darkness.

You tell me you aren't easy to love.
I tell you I don't want easy.

I want you.