you told me i was gentle
a reed in a world of sharp swords
malleable and wavering
breakable

you told me i was vulnerable
a grain of sand
pulled along with the stream
unable to swim against the current
for fear of making waves

you told me i was sensitive
a petal in the clammy palm of a child
who could not resist the temptation
of pulling apart a flower
so delicate and sweet

this was my weakness
my weak-ness

i became a sword
cold and unfeeling  
wielded by an
unbreakable insecurity

i became the moon
bending the tide to my will
uprooting the silt
upon which it sits

i became a wasp
a parasite
feeding from flowers
that so naively welcomed me in

or so i supposed
i suppose

i endured them
the swords my mother warned me against
the currents that drag  
down down down
the wasps that hunt and hurt
with their poisonous sting

and with dismay
and with relief
i was gentle

all i have is gentle sadness
to ease my pain
singing songs and
watching rain
wish i had you
to hold
but i’m alone
and i'm
so
cold

And I'll gladly sit there
in that tacky chair
and bleed out for an eternity

To watch that woman
laugh freely and smile
open and relaxed

All night
and then I'd remember
I'm hers, and she's mine

And I'm so lucky
that she's soft and gentle with me
for surely I'd die in that seat otherwise

lift me up higher,

to a place where i can touch the heavens

if not the heavens, then at least the stars

if not the stars, then the clouds could do

if not the clouds, then you should not

you should not lift me up,

instead put me down,

if you should choose to put me down darling,

all i ask is that you do so,

you should do so gently.

A gentle voice to cut through nascent wails
A tender hug to quiet and to love
A guiding hand to give a needed shove