what remains

the part of me

that is me

is stretched very thin

over my bones

it is hardly enough

well, it isn’t enough

but it will have to be

for now.

if you were to take it

and gather it all up

i think it would be very small

very, very small

miniscule

i could hold it

in my arms

and say, “look!”

“this is me!”

“this is all that’s left.”

it has been torn

and crushed

and sewn back together.

parts of it i have torn myself

ripped away

because someone said,

“i don’t like that.”

it was like they were saying

i don’t like you

so i had to

tear the part away

so that they wouldn’t

see it

again.

it is small now

there’s barely any left

the pieces are mismatched

different colors

my stained glass soul.

be careful how you touch it

being stretched so thin

all the time

you might tear a hole

even if

you didn’t mean to.

many holes

have been torn

with good intention,

so when you talk to me, please

talk to me gently

and when you hold me, please

hold me gently

and when you kiss me, please

please

kiss me gently.