Something Dangerous. Something Fragile.

I bind myself in
"It'll be ok" and
"I'm fine without him",
tying tight around my body;
ropes, bandages, tourniquets
to stop the shaking.

But dreams do not care
for the lies I tell myself.
They come alone,
few and far between,
just when I begin to believe myself
they come snipping away
the threads of my defense.

You speak to me
and the trembling begins to worsen;
I am tearing at myself,
shaking myself to pieces,
standing perfectly still
as you reach a hand to my face, then

Pulling back
a breath from the surface
as though I were a statue,
a priceless work of art,
a flame which has burnt before,
wavering in the stillest air.

Like I am something dangerous.
Something Fragile.