If you understand that beneath my skin,
there is more then blood running through my veins;
scars have tattooed every inch of  me
and now I barely have room left to breathe.
My rhythm is a little off beat,
and like leaves in autumn,
my branches sometimes lose their leaves to the return of colder weather.
In the graveyard behind my eyes,
there lies the memories I've begged my mind to forget.
As long as you know that i can't stand to be looked at for too long;
gasoline to the burning flame of stares
that I can feel from behind the safe haven of my hair,
and sometimes when you touch me I may flinch,
but the tenderness blooming from your fingertips
is a serendipity that my senses are not accustomed to.
Give me time.
And in return I'll give you my sleepless nights.
Hopefully,
you'll still want me in the morning.