You are my saving grace
duct tape
the medicine that helps me bear the pain of stitching my soul
You are the teacher
with the most important lesson
how to become strong again
You draw me in
with conversations of fictional lives
that are just as important as our own
We share pieces of our souls through
hardcovers and paperbacks
in a way that makes me feel whole
repaired
less like shattered glass and more of a mosiac
Saving grace
the three syllable manifestation of
healing
                          and
                                                  happiness

rotten flowers spill from her mouth
but her smile makes them look beautiful
"her words, she doesn't mean them" i mutter
grabbing the flowers by the handful
she says her fragile wings lay upon me
but they are iron shackles tightening on my wrist
she acts like she has nothing to lose
but has everything within her midst

sometimes
when i look in the mirror
i see something
beautiful

but
when i look again
it's gone