I fell in love
with those perfect, straight teeth
hidden behind that thick beard
that he refuses to trim, and the sound
of a Harley-Davidson motorcycle
on the roads of a college town at midnight.
He is the first person
that I have ever loved completely,
and the first person
ever to touch me and not
make me feel like human garbage
He has made me trade out all of my
red flags for white ones.
He has taken away all of the needles
that prick the back of my mind when I
walk home alone at night.
He has run his hands over all of the broken glass
that I let my skin heal over.
These are the same wounds that sometimes open up when he tries to make love to me
when I'm laying on my back
and it's past 1 am.
He does not see me as damaged.
He sees me as a survivor, a warrior woman, and not a shadow.
He knows that when I step in one of those carefully hidden bear traps
constructed from panic and gut-wrenching fear,
that I am still healing.
He keeps me grounded.