Special Needs

I want to be loved softly.

I want to be loved as I am, flaws and all,
Broken, bent, rebuilding–
Growing
up and out
Like an awkward skyscraper
made of dandelions,
Reaching
up to the bright eye
in a blue sky,
Warm
and full of color,
The promise of beauty,
fading into a white,
delicate breath of seed
carried on the thought of air;

I want to be loved softly,
with gentle touch,
gentle word and gentler spirit;
Because I am a thing
set to burst into atoms
set to evaporate
set to run;

I am afraid

of what comes next, what’s gone past;
of future grief
(and worse)
of future regret;

I want to be loved softly;
Vulnerable,
armor-less
and unmasked,
Naked
and un-abashed;
flaws on display
scars on display
Every insecurity laid bare
every atom laid open,
Honest,
raw;

I want to be loved softly,

Not because I am brittle
(though I am chipped and cracked in places);
Not because I am soft,
(because I have grown tougher and more resilient
in my own way);
I want to be loved softly,
because even the most leathery,
thick-skinned beast of burden
deserves a scratch behind the ear
and a pat on the rump from time to time;

Because tough love is no carrot; life is stick enough;
and tenderness is not a special need.