Maybe...

I'm fragile,

Like ceramics with too many cracks and not enough bubble wrap,

Waiting to shatter on the harsh tile floor,

To be swept away and forgotten,

Neglected and abused,

Useless and impared...

Fearing the pressure that rests upon my trembling body-

A hand hovering above my mangled form-

Ready to obliterate my entire existance and undo the glue that remains my temporary vice...

All it takes is one slip of a misplaced finger.

Please, PLEASE, don't break me again.

Instead, guide your hand over my splintering spine,

Perhaps a gentle touch will demand trust and banish fear,

Heal wounds and steady uncertiain nerves...

Perhaps, in the place of cracks, you can sew stitches,

To hold me together until the glue finally dries.

I would still be weaker and vulnerable,

Scarred and imperfect,

But, maybe, I could be whole-

A statue no longer withered and worn,

Graffitied and abused.

Perhaps...

But it has been SO long,

Far too long, since I have opted for the risk rather than shying away,

Or crawling to comfort in the safer places,

Locked up in a cupboard,

To be adventureless and confined,

Staring as the passions of life pass me by.

Yet, here you are-

Not afraid to touch me or my age-old injuries,

Not worried by my timidness or longing for a gentle, solid shelter,

Knowing the abuse I have taken,

And the places I have cowered to mend.

Despite this,

Every insignificant and pain wrought detail...

You remain,

With your hand gently brushing my scars,

But not enducing new ones-

Holding me together,

Without hiding me away.

Maybe this time,

After all the unforgetable lessons I have learned,

After the hundreds of times I have shattered,

And the millions more that I have spent piecing my fallen fragments back together...

Maybe this time-

 

It won't all be for nothing.

Author's Note

I know that it is my normal subject matter, but I have been having a lot of issues with 'love' lately... any critisism is welcome.