Let your fingers trace my ribs,

You play them like a piano,

They stick out like the keys.

The notes I make when you hit a bruise,

A blackened key with a sharp intake of breath,
I wince so you let your hand fall.


Let your fingers trace my face,

Following my scars like a map,

They mark the way, a path, a road.

The rivers cuts through as I cry,

You hand me a tissue and for a moment,

The roads were coated with snow,

Hidden from view.


Let your fingers trace my spine,

Curled up against the dark,

So sleep deprived, both you and I

The nightmares verging on control.

You wake me up when I'm screaming,

You hold me when I can't remember your face,

And when I can't remember I'm home.


Let your fingers trace my hand,

The only part that's not broken.

Even that is slowly failing,

An odd shaking when I hold a gun

And a clenched fist when the tears fall,

But you hold it tight and put me back together,

Piece by piece.