there was the boy who loved my body
but only tasted me with his teeth
the boy who loved these writer’s hands
but never wanted to be a character in my stories
the boy who loved the home inside this heart
big enough for him to crawl into
there was the girl who loved my shadows
but cast no light to see them
the girl who loved my constant loyalty
but wanted nothing of being loved so thoroughly
people have always loved me in pieces
crumbling away so much of me
to find only the parts they liked the taste of
I might spend my entire life
looking for a collector
someone who wants to love the complete set
the entirety of me
loved in pieces [poem]
