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.