Hard & Soft
This should not be hard.
Anticipate me, for I am open.
I have hidden nothing, and am a creature of habit, predictable.
There is nothing too difficult to discover about this soul.
Nothing sequestered away from any prying mind.
Speak to me gentle.
Everyone surrounding me talks in a decibel that I associate with my head cradled between my palms.
The pressure attempts to mash every invasive thought, inevitably they fail.
Melt into my mind.
I've spent all these many years explaining myself.
Even with these oh so fragile words at my mercy I cannot make you hold them truly.
I slice into myself when you fracture them apart, rearranging what was intended.
Be delicate with my heart.
She has endured far too much, somehow persisting in what some may consider to be an inhospitable environment.
A fragile broken thing, untrusting of every encounter because- what if it happens again?
What if it's worse?
Love me softly.
I long to be held in tender hands, that just brush against my skin.
Searching for the lost pieces of themselves in me.
It is a kindness I have never known.
Perhaps I am undeserving.
Maybe it's harder than it sounds...
Copyright © Annabelle Dillon | Year Posted 2026
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