Broken

I was never broken,

but the way that you came in,

and it felt like I had stopped

under a bridge in pouring rain

told me that maybe

part of me is.

And the way I watched

all of my worries melt away

as I looked into your eyes

for the very first time

told me that maybe

part of me is.

And the way that your gentle touches

made me want to shy away,

but instead I embraced them

with open arms,

told me that maybe

part of me is.

And the way that I am so used to

the stabbing

harsh words of others-

yet your words came flowing in

so soft,

so sweet,

so perfect.

It felt like I had taken

my first breath of fresh air

and that

told me that maybe

part of me is.

And maybe part of me

is broken, but

I am me.

Imperfect.

Messy.

Chaotic.

Yet, you love me anyways

for all that

I am.