I believe

That you are stone
Wrapped in skin
With crimson tone
From within

A tone of hope
A tone of fight
To those in shadows soaked
A call to join the light

I believe

That you are rare
That in the rising tide
The mighty tempest ride
Leave  your captive chains behind
And let your stone-willed words declare

My skin
My paper thin
Not so soft skin

Is kissed by night sky
I'm scarred by the motion of your lips
Cracked by your whispers

My skin
My paper thin
not so soft skin

Is painted in red
I'm scratched by your brush
Wounded by your strokes

My skin
My paper thin
Not so soft skin

Is covered in memories
I'm reminded of your attention
Marked by your accessories