Bravehearted

Smaller than I am
I fell into my own arms

to pieces
but all love

licking the wounds
They are mine

The bed doesn't know a thing
it just carries whoever lies down

soft for heavy
and prickly, for me

I talk and write my complaints
away under enthusiastic words

friends desbravely hope with me
guessing what I don't dare

to share and afterwards
I am worried

whether I did them wrong
I am so tired

my body is the limit
I want to pass