take this as you will, but i know who its really for

buried deep in his chest like a molehill inside a mountain,

 

i made my home with the broken ribs that aided in protecting

 

paper lungs and a glass heart, and skin designed to hold 

 

his very being together, laced around tissue and muscle

 

like ribbon for the beautiful gift he would become.

This poem is about: 
Me

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