Terrified
                   of taking this chance
                   and letting you see
                   just how jagged every
                   little piece
of
                  me is.  Broken, all my
                  scattered portions flutter
                  away until I'm no
                  longer sure of just
what
                  picture they used to
                  complete.  And you come
                  along, strolling oh-so-
                  casually to retrieve
this
                  piece and that piece,
                  fitting them in their
                  rightful places again.
                  Each snugly put in with a
love
                  I never imagined could
                  exist in reality. So tell me
                  why, when I so clearly see
                  your pure intentions, why
can
                  I not just accept it all?
                  Instead I wonder, second-
                  guess, and contemplate
                  running.  Can I ever just
be...