My Nature.

Romantic French borderlines crossing

the ballet pink harp I clutch onto

for no dear reason at all.

Your eyelashes sweep the filth from the streets.

I cling to you desperately.

Your agony breaks me.

I want to heal you like you've never experienced this.

For even though you are here,

I am lonely.

I want to be drawn up,

into your arms.

Fearlessly.

And wordlessly.

A vacant chair centered in the dark room

is resting beside a tray of your

wonderous charcoal.

I am scared, so I hold your hand tightly.

You tell me it's okay

and not to be afraid.

Timeless angels align the building, you say.

And I am one of them.

I blush, and shed my skin like a snake.

You dig deep,

pulling up the truth like gravel.

You peel away my layers

and illustrate my form.

I am a black and white silhouette on paper.

And I dance.

Oh, I do.

You teach me so many new things, yet, I am only human.

Forever cursed to my mortal chains.

This is all I've ever known.