Don’t you dare, for one minute, believe that my kindness makes me anything but insurmountable. I did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt, and stagger back, wounded and alive, just to hear you call me weak for trying. I opened my door to Heartache– I gave her the ******* key. My softness for wayward strangers has made me nothing less than a halfway house for aching soles. So when you open your mouth and call me ‘baby’ understand that I am not your next victim in a laundry list of broken girls. You think I don’t know you? People like you? People with mouths for hands. I’ve got skin like topsoil and your teeth could never take root. So when you go looking to make a plaything of a sunburst, you better look for someone with less fire than me. Because softness or no, I will eat you alive before I let you make a meal of me.