My home is a tiny cabin in the woods,
My voice a timid trail of smoke from
The quaint log chimney
That would never reveal the pain
Hiding under the shiny tin roof.
You hold my bleeding heart
Carefully, like a baby bird just
Stretching it's wings, and you
Stitch it back together with your  
Whispers of strength
Like quiet raindrops on a tin roof,
I
  t
  '
   s
    
      o
       k,

         I
          '
           m

             h
              e
                r
                 e
                   .