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Description
Fragile one, my beautiful child
it is okay to cry.

I will take your tiny body
crippled
and
battered
my well-wishing the cement
to hold your splintered bones together.

I will brush your hair with my fingers
and wash your porcelain face with soft regrets
a small change from wallowing in ashen marrow
up to your pretty little eyes.

And maybe when all is said and done, little one
when your fingers are tangled in my hair
when they have washed my alabaster face
I’ll feel comfortable enough
to let myself cry too.

-D.E.M

Description
Fragile one, my beautiful child
it is okay to cry.

I will take your tiny body
crippled
and
battered
my well-wishing the cement
to hold your splintered bones together.

I will brush your hair with my fingers
and wash your porcelain face with soft regrets
a small change from wallowing in ashen marrow
up to your pretty little eyes.

And maybe when all is said and done, little one
when your fingers are tangled in my hair
when they have washed my alabaster face
I’ll feel comfortable enough
to let myself cry too.

-D.E.M