I've Stockholm'd lightly

"Where have all the
angry
men gone?"
her broken mind
wanders
as she contemplates
who she needs
by her side
to finally
b
 r
  e
   a
    t
     h
      e
again.
screaming is better than the
silence
that fills
with his
lack of passion.

"Where have all the
broken
men gone?"
her overflowing heart
PLEADS
as she imagines the
patches she could sew
on a worn out s o u l.
being a cure
to his pain
meant she held meaning;
any meaning was better than
an open agenda.

"Where have all the
bad guys
gone?"
her body aches as she imagines
the passion that could
e
s
c
a
p
e
her lips
now curved into a grin
bad wasn't so bad
if bad meant he craved her
just one
       minute
          longer.

"Where have all the
tough
men gone?"
her skin longs
for the sting.
pain became bearable
if it meant
he would touch
her skin
one last time.
scratches
bruises
and brokenness were a badge
and the prize was a
speechless promise
of forever.

love has never been
butterflies
beautiful music
or desire.
or maybe it has,
but that kind of
love
was never translated
into her language of choice.