I couldn’t possibly love you. No, it doesn’t seem likely.
My skin is too thick, made of brick and mortar,
Protecting my heart from the jabs of the men I knew before
You. You seem soft to the touch and therefore how could I feel you?
Your caress would crumble against my brick walls.
With this unfamiliar expression, quizzical gaze
I question you, you must be lying like the rest
You with your soft fingertips, must be disguised daggers
Ready to attack when I let down my gates.
I couldn’t possibly love you. No, not like this.
There must be a mistake because vulnerability does not come without
Culpability, and you could never take the blame.
You. You seem soft, yet there will always be a part of you that hardens.
At this point I don’t know what I’m more afraid of.
Should I remain silent, knowing that the things I don’t say can and will
Be used against me? My lack of response will only incriminate me.
Words, they escape my grasp like tendrils in the wind.
You. You seem soft, and tenderness is unfamiliar territory.
You, you would have to charter miles of brick scuffing your surface
Like an eraser, removing all the agony written on my walls of shame.
Maybe, maybe it’s meant to be this way.