I am still the child who gloomily broods,
crestfallen when plans go awry.
I am still the fragile entity that fractures
my hurt heart over splintering phrases
and gruesome guessing in the dark
I am still the free spirit once shipped
to prep school, bubble wrapped,
parents blinded by hovering guilt
This is why I am so brittle.
This is why I will always be brittle.
Empathy is the one important thing.
And here I am, open, my soul watered by it.
Written beside “Your Soft Heart” by Nikita Gill
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