Patchwork

And it’s a bittersweet feeling,

really difficult to explain.

I’ve met a lot of people,

I’ve loved them very deeply.

I know I can't control the way they loved me back:

aggressive, intense, tiny little stitches,

they burn my skin.

I look often at their patchwork

and the past we share.

And I’ve known you for so long now—

I love you very deeply,

and I can’t control the way you love me back:

harsh, fierce, tiny little stitches,

they scar my skin.

And it’s a confusing feeling,

so hard to understand.

My skin’s marked by people,

by the people I very deeply love.

I know I can’t control the way they love me back:

piercing, burning, tiny little stitches.

I wish I could see my skin.

I often look back at myself

and the people I’ve met.

I wonder if I’ve marked you the same now.

You love me very deeply,

and I can’t control the way I love you back:

aggressive, intense, tiny little stitches.

I see the scars in your skin.