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 uninhibitedΒ Β
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.