I have a boom box in place of a heart,
I taught my body to how to hold tears now I'm a puddle in the physique of the ocean.
everything I touch becomes gold,
but how do you love a rock?
Don't ask me to be patient,
I'd wait for a lifetime
this vessel of shredded insecurities churned to make a whole human being is weak,
now look at me
I will stay, I will stand at the door and weep
and there will be a God born between my anxieties and love for you
you'd see me as a holy thing
but I'd be a fraud, a charlatan
because even I do not understand what love means.
my father tried to teach me through discipline
so I think love means hurt
my mother tried to teach me through rage
so I think love means anger.
Broken things often times do not blame the hands that smash them,
they blame the ground for being hard
they blame gravity
so it's not you, it's me
you'd wreck me and I'd thank you for at least holding me.

© Hope