stubborn, am i
like to run at my own pace
not any slower...nor any quicker

-/----and absolutely despise----\-

..when i am told to do otherwise..

built, in a manner
that many are unable to handle



but

somehow, the sole exclusion...is he

and so

he adoringly....places,, back together...the pieces of me


================================


complex
simply because i choose not to reveal all

moody
sentimental shifter, when i feel myself start to fall

overly emotional at times
not by choice

...it just is...


yet
he comprehends all of that


so all pieces of me...have become his


======================================


the most simple of a gesture
random call...just to hear my voice
sends me spiraling into the seams of his soul

calms
my, quite often, qualms
he sees the light in me...beyond the darkness of pupils, colored charcoal


i am shattered
yet...to he...that has never even mattered
he finds purpose, in finding all the fragments of me...to make "we" whole

=============================

sometimes, i wonder
how his comprehension of my chaotic ways, is better than mine

...i guess...
unlike myself...he doesn't mind taking the time


uncertain, am i....of what i'd do, ..if love, happens to cease from he

i suppose...this is my attempt at a plea

for, he holds....pieces of me

=====================================

i fall
and it is never just a fumble
more like a plummet onto harsh pavement, a concrete bludgeoning

&

as i have gotten older
my bounce back reflexes are not nearly as fine tuned
still my heart keeps allowing this tumbling

hesitant
am i,
fearful of repeating the same pitiful procedure of giving all, only for reciprocation to fall short


of this,
he is aware
yet he remains...strong stanced....no matter how blurry i view me...his vision of "we", never does distort


i'd rather fall flat on my face, yet again
then to live with the regret of never giving the best of me

curse myself during aftermath
for never giving some...then following through and giving the rest of me

hands of hindsight beating me to a bloody pulp
for not allowing him to invest in me

....in we...


he needs to see

that only he

gets...the pieces of me


stick my neck out....i must
for love, go again, out on that fragile limb



and say


.
.
.
.
.
.
I Love Him