I am arms wide open,
Exposed satin plush softness,
Unapologetic grainy surfaces from forces I had no control over,
This galaxy is yours for the taking.
But you can’t take it with crossed arms,
hand as a shield to preserve your distance,
The inaudible, “don’t come closer, I’m afraid to be seen”.
Don’t you see I’m afraid, too?
Discomfort in my delicateness, in grieving the loss of a facade that did me no favors,
I stand in this truth,
rooted in my story.
Friend, you are an anthology,
rich in cryptic verse,
a surprise everyone wants to hear.
But you are willing only to distribute a slogan.
Pithy rhetoric is cheap,
so unlike yourself,
And the only person cheated in the transaction is you,
Like fly paper to those thirsty for a faultless God.
But you are human,
this gloriously fractured, fallen and rise again variety of person.
And I want to know more,
Run my fingers along your fissures like you have done to mine,
delve into the gravel terrain you hide so well,
if only you were to grant me the privilege.