Its hard
Learning to love myself
The way I love others
And you
And I pick my brain
Trying to understand why
I offer pieces of myself
Like spare change from the cup
To everyone I meet
Hoping that they might
Love me somehow
But you
I met you and
I held out my hands
Like the beggar i am
Presenting handfuls of dirty change
Hoping that you might
Take some too
And you didn't consider it
Just grabbed my wrists
And thrust my rusted palms
Under the sink
And I became clean
For everyday that I bled
You began to heal the wounds
Unknowingly stitching together
The parts of me I thought needed fixing
And as I spilled over your fingers
You told me to stop
Saying sorry so much
You saw the fragments of me
And I saw no remorse
So I showed you
the remnants of me too
I allowed myself to fall apart.
YOU ARE READING
Sweet Nothing
PoëzieA small collection of poems written from a dark place in my head.. From the deepest reaches of my soul to the hollow of my heart, on your screen is everything I found the words to express, whether or not it makes any sense at all.
