I’m fragile
Please don’t hurt me
Please don’t break me
I’m not like one of those manufactured Chinese toys
That looks exactly like all the rest
I was made by hand
Hand crafted
Painted with care
Please don’t trip over me
Please don’t drop me
I won’t be able to find my feet to the ground quick enough
And I’ll crack in an instant
Please trust me
Please know I’m telling the truth
When a plate breaks
And shatters into dozens of pieces
It’s never delicately placed on the dinner table again
Never gets the privilege of holding mashed potatoes and serving a purpose
Never even considered worthy enough to bathe in a soapy rack full of unbroken dishes
One last time
Because once it’s broken, it’s trash
And you can’t mend it
Please don’t let me be that plate
Please don’t give up on me
Some days I feel myself cracking
And I can’t explain it
One painful insult
One excluded invitation
One too many responsibilities to keep track of
Begins the fracture
And my brain desperately craves for it to spread
Throughout my entire body
Connecting to every other crack ever created
And I’m on the verge of falling apart
On the verge of breaking
On the verge of shattering like a china doll in the hands of an angered two-year old
Yet somehow the tears in my eyes
Now running down my cheeks
And dripping off my chin
Are like glue
They don’t mend the crack
But stop it from spreading
And once the glue drys up
And leaves a clear coating on the edge of my breaking point
It’s almost invisible
Hidden from the rest of the world
The secret that I keep with only my reflection
Anyone looking would never see it on the surface
Or guess it was even ever there
Unless you forget
And your carelessness chips another part of me
But you won’t notice it
As the fracture ripples down my spine
Finding and splitting every single one of my bones
Until
I’m no different from the plate on the floor
And then you’ll notice
But a broken plate is only a broken plate
Good for nothing
Except creating a mess
And cutting yourself on the pieces
If you aren’t careful
Please don’t be the crack that finds the rest
Please don’t be the crack that finally breaks me
Please remember
I’m fragile

If Summer were not but a season
and instead a man.
I would beckon him closer,
put myself in his hands.
We would walk slow
silent as happiness
and from me, would grow
a terrible sprig of tenderness.
Feel his radiance right up in my bones,
lay under that sweltering shadow.
Only, come Autumn, to feel so alone.

The strongholds and fortresses within you
that have for so long, kept you apart  from
the healing has been waiting for you,
all along..
--even they have been longing for a love
that was strong enough,
unafraid enough, and fierce enough

to dismantle their intricate, inner workings..

Because,  even the fortresses  themselves
want to know what it is that real love feels like.
And stubborn and well-fortified, that they are--

    eventually even they bow down  on one knee,
                   to the fullness of love's true nature.

And so, that which once did all it could
to keep you away from the very thing
you needed most;   once disarmed,

would then become,  through your spirit's metabolizing
of it's at one time consolidated fragments,
love's  greatest  advocate.


I could just smile, and cover you
with smoothe words..

         but that would not be love;

 just the perpetuation of the same old  emptiness--
     the one that first did the  ****, so many years ago

And it is again, within the dismantling process
that the greatest desire for the ****,  
becomes manifest--
and I can either, attempt to completely destroy
your will to live, once the fortress comes down

or bless you with love's tenderness  until
you can become completely rebuilt

And you..

Half dismantled,  the fortress-- still powerful,
can acquiesce both your heart and spirit
into an indentured servitude;

Hell-bent, on the destruction of all things, life-borne.


Or we can both allow love to help us,  each  
choose  to let go of the evil-impulse,
and allow it's unholy nature  

to become absorbed  into all things, loving;
into all things, beautiful.

The world is a hard place
with hard people
carrying theirs around
like columns on their backs
making it even harder for
them to know
just how much the world has
broken in their rubble

And some revel in their ashes
And some build palaces
And some think it's just fantastic
And some go on helping others
knocking weight off their backs

But never let someone fall so low
that they sharpen the edges of our trash
As the world is already a hardened place
Then why should I be so?

They cut her wings,
every touch so rough,
bruises and scars,
that's all she's got.

She's always wandering,
walking through the snow.
She may not have anything left
but she's still got hope.

No matter what they do to her
she won't give up.
And as the pain washes over her
she smiles with tears in her eyes.

She knows one day
there will be a caring soul,
a gentle caress instead of this cruelty.
One day she'll be safe.

Until that day has come
she'll walk the icy road,
her heart so soft,
so full of love.

The softest of hearts
in a broken body.
Oh my sweet angel,
you're to pure for this world.