The Damage.

The damage occurred before you,

in places love ravaged my insides bloody,

with her claws and hunting knives pared

to a point that hungrily shred me to pieces,

making it  hard to remember

that I could be broken,

and somehow still feel whole.

Hope's Voice.

Hope told her story
around a warm fire
that circled a thousand moonlit skies with it's flames,
and I leaned in towards her,
transfixed
by the tender simplicity
of her voice.