i think you only loved me
when i was frail and broken.
am i no longer lovely
if all my hurt was spoken?
and if i bear no danger,
and give you no more hell
am i, to you, a stranger,
now that i'm fin'ly well?
i think you only loved me
because you thought me small.
i think you used to love me,
but now you never call.
a poem to the boy who saved me