A Meeting Point of Shattered Glass and Weathered Stone

is it wrong of me to feel guilty?
downcast eyes and soul
and then I feel your touch on my chin
sturdy base to my glass figurine
there is no hesitation in your voice as you say
yes.
because you have nothing to feel guilty about.
I envy your sureness
the way you march through life
ordering your reality around you
unafraid
I was never so bold
anything I attained was through grace alone
and genetics, perhaps
our contradictory world would be surprised
how far a pretty face and a clever mind take you
flash of my smile opens doors
quip of my lips draws crowds
yet somehow you still surprise me
in all your firm gentleness
you surpass any potential I may have
your mere presence makes me aware of it
how I bleed at the simplest brush
my life story puddling at my feet for all to read
next to you with your hide of armor
I am pathetic
but you don't think so.
and there it is
I am a question mark
hesitating bendable unsure
and you've always been a full stop
sincere unyielding final.
you are the boy who
upon finding the broken transparent dancergirl
puts her in a place of honor
cushioned and cherished
and I
oh I
the lovely fragile frozen primadonna
missing a slippered foot and with chipped outstretched arms
I require delicate care that you give adoringly
nestled in your arms
as if all the world couldn't make me bleed now.