"when i make myself small,
when i bite nails,
when i am a shell of myself,
when i’ve carved the sea from my eyes,
when i bleed,
when i am a hurricane,
when my only strength is in the back of my throat,
when i refuse to scream
i know this is not winning;
it’s not you, but i can’t promise my eyes won’t blame you.
but tell me you are here;
pry my hands from my mouth.
call me morning and cradle whispers against my ears;
i am breaking every promise between us when i cry.
do not break your sternum to show me your heart
open your hands and hold me;
when i am more afraid of listening than talking,
do not run.
when my words are more red than they are gentle.
do not run.
when i am a fraction of what i used to be,
do not run.
i know these aren’t the love poems i told you about
but you are the only tenderness all of my bravery needs.
push onto my insecurities
our shaking love.
i will try to tear out of myself;
i will claw all honesty from my skin,
but i am begging you, please do not
run."
- "when i am a fraction of what i used to be, do not run" - a.w (via ho-heub)

(via ho-heub)