I don't love him, I just love all his imperfections,
They make him perfect.
But I don't love him,
I keep telling myself
As I give him every piece of me
On a golden platter—
But not nearly as golden
As the way he looks at me
When we make love.
But what if I do love him?
Maybe I do,
But I'm just scared to admit it,
Fearing it will happen again.
I give him everything—
My love, my heart, my soul, my body.
I would give him all,
If he were to ask.
But my past life keeps coming back,
Haunting me—
The sleepless nights,
The crying,
The screaming.
I can't go back.
My heart cannot be shattered again,
For I fear this time,
I won't be able
To pick up the pieces
Myself.
But if I do love him,
Perhaps it's not weakness, but strength I find
In the trembling hands that offer my heart,
In the risk of falling apart again.
I am terrified, yes,
But what if love is worth the fear,
Worth the sleepless nights and the ghosts that leer?
If I step into the unknown,
Will he catch me before I break,
Or will I shatter once more, alone in the wake?
Still, there's something in the way he smiles,
A warmth that tells me maybe, just maybe,
I won't have to face the pieces this time.
So I'll hold him closer,
Not because I'm unafraid, but because I choose to be brave,
And in that choice, perhaps I'll find
That love, in its fragility, can heal what's left behind.
