I’d like to make it clear that of all the voices in my ear, yours is the only one I hear.
I am blessed by your existence, much like the rest of the world and those privileged to know you, my muse.
You are porcelain among the glass; precious cargo, tattooed “Fragile” in all ways - and I’d like to make it clear that of all the voices in my ear, yours is the only one I hear.
Your sweet remarks and your clever charm - prose laced with poison, lethal kisses at the nape of my neck. You **** me, dear. Is it bad to still want you near?
“I am damaged,” you say, “My heart is battered and bandaged. It has shattered many times. I have picked up the pieces of this fragile heart - I try to put it back together, but it keeps falling apart.”
I’d like to take your hurt and throw it upon myself.
So undeserving you are of the aches that you endure. I’d like to take your heart and cherish it, hold it in my hands where I know it is safe.
I will not break you, dear. Can I still have you near?
written on february 5, 2013; published on teenink in april 2013.