You once asked me why I loved you.

 

I didn’t know what to say.

 

Because you are kind,

like a viper, killing quickly.

 

Or because you’re wicked smart,

like a jungle cat stalking its prey.

 

Because you see me, deeply,

that much is true.

 

I didn’t know what to say,

so I didn’t say anything at all.

 

In the silence that has settled

in the years and the space 

since that moment,

the answer has clawed its way out

from its deep place of hiding.

 

I loved you because you are broken

in all the same ways

that I am broken.

 

And I found solace there.

 

Loving the broken in you, 

I begin to love the broken in me,

and through that love 

I piece myself together,

fragile yet whole.

Human.