When looking for a man,
she has decided she likes them
broken.
In fact, “needs” is a better word.
“Craves” is a bit harsh,
but there have been days
it is the only word that fits.
She does not long for the impossible,
nor strive for the unattainable;
her desires are well within reach.
She wants to fix
that which is broken.
She does not mind
that the jagged edges
of their
body
heart
self
will slice her hands to ribbons.
She will wipe away their tears
leaving behind bloodstains
to remind them who their savior was.
She wraps them in
bandages made from love,
soaks away their pain with her body,
tries to soothe the scars from their soul.
She yearns for the emptiness
in their eyes,
the longing for a kind word,
affection that does not
stab them in the back.
She has gone so far
as to turn her back on happiness
just to cradle the broken
in her arms.
For she knows that it is only
when bleeding from shards
that cannot be fixed
that she feels whole.