Handle With Care

Even I

With limbs shorter than my resolve

Have opened windows higher than the expectancy of love.

I've painted white walls in crimson jealousy

Circles for the one I miss

Lowering my expectancy

Ripped wings from winds of the foreign leaf of bitterness

Hands strong from carrying this river of regret

I let it slip through withered but renewed fingers

Filtering gems

Honey! I take mountains and move them with my love.

Aged and buried, responsive yet careless

Ask all my exes about the mark of their stigma

Your head, like theirs, 

Would turn white at the curse to try to tame such an enigma

So I pace my heart without the challenge of speed

Tired of giving it what it wants,

I only feed it what it needs

While waiting for the one who can actually read directions

"Handle with care."