With careful hands, he wraps the gauze,
A caring cop who knows the flaws,
Who feels the weight of every scar,
The battles fought, both near and far.
The cuffs click soft, a quiet sound,
But all I see is what’s around—
A world too heavy, dark, and deep,
Where no one wakes me from this sleep.
He kneels beside me, meets my eyes,
And doesn’t flinch at tear-filled skies.
He’s seen this road before, I know,
The ones who felt they had to go.
His voice is low, a whispered plea,
"You matter more than what you see."
But still, the cuffs bite at my skin,
A symbol of the fight within.
Beside him stands his partner near,
A wall of silence, void of fear.
No room for words, no room for grief,
No understanding, no relief.
"Why try?" he says, his eyes like ice,
“Just rules to follow, pay the price."
But how can rules untangle pain,
Or make me want to live again?
Yet through the cuffs, the bandage tight,
The caring cop still holds the light.
He sees the struggle in my soul,
The brokenness, the shattered whole.
And though the world may turn away,
He kneels beside me, here to stay.
In his soft gaze, I see the truth—
A fragile hope, a spark of youth.
"You matter still, despite the storm,"
He whispers as the night turns warm.
And though the cuffs may hold me down,
His kindness lifts me from the ground.
