You told him how hands on your body make you feel like you're 18 again
The word no coating you like tissue paper armor in a thunderstorm
You told him how you stayed
Because you can't accuse someone of breaking and entering if you forgot to lock all the windows
You told him how one of the last firsts you had was torn away like old wallpaper in a house you weren't ready to remodel
He let himself in one day when your guard was down
And trust grew like dandelions
Wild and uninhibited
And it's hard to tell which hurt worse
Being broken into
Or letting him in
Allowing him to tour your wounds like a museum
And adding his work to the exhibit before leaving
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 12:32 PM UTC
You told him how hands on your body make you feel like you're 18 again
The word no coating you like tissue paper armor in a thunderstorm
You told him how you stayed
Because you can't accuse someone of breaking and entering if you forgot to lock all the windows
You told him how one of the last firsts you had was torn away like old wallpaper in a house you weren't ready to remodel
He let himself in one day when your guard was down
And trust grew like dandelions
Wild and uninhibited
And it's hard to tell which hurt worse
Being broken into
Or letting him in
Allowing him to tour your wounds like a museum
And adding his work to the exhibit before leaving
None of my poems are recent. I found this on an old laptop. Enjoy.
