zebrasindenver

God you are a mess, a broken flower a shattered vase,

akin to desperation and a little need,

but you are beautiful and crass and hurting,

and i can see your path,

i am no poet,

just one who has unwillingly lived beyond his years,

with a history of love, pain and passion surpassing despair,

i want to hold you and let you cry into me,

as i could take your pain and wanting,

i mean, this is my role as shepard for the weak no?