Just because my wrist didn't break when I first held your hand
does not mean that you are as gentle as I assumed you’d be.

When you hear the word ‘love’
You always think that the sound of the wind might
Suddenly sound like music, even when it hurricanes,
But it does not.

At first your kiss was sweet and warm
Like the honey in my tea, but,
Towards the end your lips stung
Like poison crafted by my own finger tips.

Just because you held me when I slept that Winter
Does not mean that you would only give me
the warmth and love that your body gives.

I took my first dance in December
When I thought that grabbing onto you
Seemed safe and almost lovely but
Now I know I might have been wrong.

Your name still fits in my diary.
Though now my heart sits broken,
You were once the very remedy
That mended all my stings.

When I hear the word ‘love’
I always think that the only way to pronounce his name
would require there be a smile on my face.
I still believe this.

I can say your name without smiling.
You loved me once,
You broke me once.
Your hand broke my wrist the last time you held it.