First Version, Real Version

Does your heart like to cringe?

You’re armored inside your sanctuary.
Like one of those gift cards,
wrapped in 10 boxes and 1500 layers of
saran wrap
that make a person
work for it.

By the time someone reaches your center,
they’re wishing they could’ve
licked their way
to the softness in the middle of a tootsie pop
and had some sweetness
for their troubles.

But my hands are gloriously shredded
from cardboard cuts
and razor slips.
And baby,

there could be nothing
but an expired subway coupon
at the end of it all,
and you couldn’t have hurt me

a bit.

Does your heart like to bust?

Like all of us,
I protect myself.
How do you love another?
I’m asking,

How to allow.
Not by choice.
But in the way

Suns bust light.