i tuck them away in my velveteen rabbit stitches, i see them in the curves of my freshest scars.

it feels good to know that there are things about me that no one knows, that there are layers to reveal to only the special ones.

like soft morning kisses, or orange slices fanned out perfectly next to a tea cup.

everyone you know has soft spots that they are ashamed to show.

there are things that you'll only notice once, and then they'll disappear. i remember them all.

i want to see all your soft spots, i want to see them split open like ripe fruit and spread them across my lips.

i can be a gentle confessor, i will hold your aching in my open hands. everyone needs a soft ear and a screen to hide behind, at least for a little while.