my secret:

I see every careful imperfection in his face
I know the hardest scars and darkest hollows of his heart.
I’ve blessed his anger, tasted his self-loathing.
I have run my finger across his pain and heeled it with my tears
For two years I cradled his child’s heart in mine
Tried to fuse his brokenness with my own
Painted him into myself
Allowed him to be my beautiful disaster
He knows my mean imperfections
Every saccharine corner of my heart
I’ve watched him look into my brokenness
To see himself reflected in my eyes
Despite everything
Despite brokenness and because of it
I would willingly pour
Myself out to fill him.
He cast me aside
Still, I would gladly give years
Of peaceful solitude for
One more
Tortured moment of his heart