The reality is
He won't seal your cuts
With all his sweet kisses,
He can't excavate
All the demons from your mind.

The reality is,
HIs hugs won't put
All your broken parts back together.
His texts won't make
Your entire day brighter.

Maybe his kisses
His hugs,
His texts
And his words
Can be a temporary fix.

But the reality is,
If he really loves you,
He'll make you fix yourself.

I remember our first kiss
It was an accident & you
wouldn't stop apologizing
because you had one past
too many to drink

     You were broken like a
     shattered glass bowl filled
     with your favorite kind of
     cereal & way too much milk
          As it fell to the floor, your
          heart dropped just as fast,
          immediately realizing that
          this couldn't be undone
     You'd have to clean up all
     of the glass & soggy bits of
     sugary flakes from the floor
     all by yourself with no help
          You cursed to yourself through
          clenched teeth & a closed jaw,
          tears daring to escape your eyes
          like the milk pouring & dripping
          over the sides of the broken bowl
                    You swore off cereal all together
                    because the agony of possibly
                    breaking another bowl had
                    your head & heart in a whirl
                    of confusion & annoyance
               Slowly as you began to pick the
               broken pieces of glass from the floor,
               piece after piece being thrown away,
               this task you found a chore
               becomes more of a necessity
               that you didn't realize until
               the big mess was already created
          Wiping up the chunks of sugar
          & tossing them in the trash,
          a small smile curls at the
          corners of your mouth
     Pain runs through your veins,
     but relief washes over your core
     as you realize the worst is over

The kiss that I remember
was not of regret, but beauty
I'm on this sugar high &
I'm not sure I can come down

     But you don't want cereal anymore
           so I'll eat this bowl alone

Don't be tricked by the boy who has a thread of sentimental words pouring out of his mouth
Don't be a fool and fall for his kindness
Don't believe the deceitful excuses he makes up
Promise me you'll never ever trust the boy whose in love with every other girl he sees
I made that mistake
I'm still fixing myself because of it

Today is the first day of Spring
and it is snowing
Like the first day of rehab
and you are fixing
The difference is
it is not in your
nature.

In fixing you, I broke myself

I never believed in true love
But the way you understand me so immaculately
And the way I understand you
It just seems as if we're the same broken soul
Only split into two.
And now, as our two souls are combined as they should be,
Maybe we'll properly put our broken pieces into place
And eventually sit back and watch as the others try too.

Some men look for Jesus, but I'm looking for Cain
I'm vibrating out of my skin and I'm not looking for saving I'm looking to be shaken by the earth
I'm done, don't help me I'm going on a walk
Something is broken and my muscles are done limping, I'm gonna tear it out, throw it to your feet and turn my back to your reflection
Masks, excuses, and old scars have shaken off and if I die that's ok, I'd like a go at being a flower

I want to give you all of me because
you need it more than I do
You need my soft hands,
my supple heart, my forgiving words
So much more
than I need myself, my time, my being
More than I need my life itself

See, I’d forget myself to help you remember yourself
I’d let you steal my heart to fix your own
All so you can feel whole again,

but when you don’t need me anymore
when my fingers don’t fix your pain
and my heart doesn’t sooth over your wounds
and you decide you’re better off without me,
don’t forget,

you weren’t a chapter in my life
You were my whole book
And, yeah, you can write yourself a new one
With your perfected body becoming the star
And you can go,
and leave me
and start a new novel in your life

but me, see, I can’t move on
because in fixing you
I broke myself
And I can’t even write a new sentence
Without every single word being tainted by your breath
Let alone start a new books

I'll stitch myself together
with the most misshapen parts
and sharpest shards of who I am;
not so that I might return
to who I once was,
but in hopes that I might
become something better,
or at least someone
somewhat whole again.