I'm Not Pretty While I Love You

I love you so much
more
than I can love you.

I’m tumbling over myself
and tripping
on your hems,
ripping your jeans
off (and not in the good way)…

I know you love me
and some days I don’t
understand
why.
How could you
love this
gangling clump of vines
falling all over
you?

You’ve hollowed a cushioned room
for me
inside your chest,
but I’m too rough,

too square and obtuse
to fit comfortably
today
and I scratch you.

And I’m sorry,
I’m so sorry,
that my faulty heart
is spilling
thick with blood
all down my shirt,

and I’m not pretty while I love you.

I have fallen too
many times
down the stairs
because of my own
clumsy feet,

and I am surprised
you even try to pick me
up anymore.

I am just a faulty pool
of thick blood
at the bottom
of the stairs,

and I am sorry
I am all I have
to offer you.