You

Vulnerability at it’s best.

You want to run already.

For the sole word itself,

Makes you uneasy.

The mere thought of it,

It makes you nervous.

Sweet, scary… Vulnerability...

The taste it gives,

At the end of each shortened breath.

The tender blister it carelessly left,

At the tip of your sharp tongue.

Well… Speaking straight from the “alleged” cold shoulder,

I could argue every little detail, corner, and angle.

Well you’d have an excuse for my every remark, wouldn’t you?

Vulnerability at it’s best

Don’t run my dear,

For the sole word itself,

Holds a meaning not yet defined.

The nervousness you feel,

Is simply-a lie.

Sweet, sacred… Vulnerability.

An exceptional taste it gives,

For it bred the very connections you cherish today.

That effortless healing it brought,

As it replaced the person who brought you pain,

With someone who’s actions showed you,

You too, deserve nothing less than a love unstained.