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.