Your long fingers tap on my nervous heart. I love your fickle soul and freckled shoulders.
You say you won't find peace of mind in a cinderblock room or on a piece of notebook paper, so you crumple up your doubts and hide your body with mine.
My shrunken lungs cannot draw breaths not used to say your name. I will be a blanket to warm your bones from your downdraft hopes. I will comb your hair with my fingers on the days you don't wake.
But my heart breaks on battlefields you will never hear of. I lick wounds you will never know to see. I train my trembling hands so they may gently soothe you in sleep.
I can love you better than I can fix myself. I will fight becoming what I fear in order to be all that you need.