Black eyes, bruised skin
Just because I love you, doesn't mean I'll let you in.
Love with you is fist fights, broken glass.
Harsh words that cut the skin, broken plates littering the floor
That's not what love is.
Love is a softness one soul feels for another
A warmth and safety
That no other can provide.
It's not flinching at sudden movements
Fear of whats coming next.
It's wondering what's in store
With a person who's touch is so gentle
That you could never think of it turning into a fist.