I cannot fathom the fascination you have with being vulnerable,
Aren’t you more susceptible to deception?

Does it not allow for more frequent coming and going out of your life?
Out of your heart?

Where is the beauty in being who I am?
I am rough, raw and rigid.

Where is the beauty in stiffness? Besides the ability to withstand itself.
Maybe the mere fact that it does not tilt or shift for no one.
But who wants to love someone as stubborn as that?

There is no beauty in being vulnerable.

You cannot continue bleeding out ounces of yourself for people who cannot stand the sight of blood.