I am an outreached palm
and a blank page,
waiting to be written.
I have offered you pens
and my pages,
and even my heart
mixed in with a plate
of your grandmothers homemade cookies.
I have even cut off my back
to keep me from turning on you,
and my heart may be the old motel
your mother warned you
to stay away from,
but the second it saw you
i knew to turn on the lights and
fold the sheets to make room
for someone new,
and i apologize for these sheets
have frayed and the shutters
might creak in the storms,
but i have bid you my all
in a risky gamble of love
and i will continue to do so
in hopes that i might win a place
in your heart,
like you have
in mine