Broken glasses, sorry can’t see well, wavy lines and broken, wrong ‘finds’

If there is something wrong tell me because I love you. I have done so little.
And I am so brittle.  

Your oks are fine and I feel like brokenness hid in them.
And I feel like I am in debt.
I guess you remind me of God’s love.
I owe so much but you never really forced me.

I am so scared and ashamed.  
Crazy and busy and unsafe.
“Vulnerability is my enemy” I always thought.

I love you. I hope you know that.