Bruise

Six years ago I developed a shake in my hands
As they carried the weight of a love I was too young to understand
But had convinced myself I couldn't live without
Now the only reminders I have of a life
I no longer miss are my terrible cursive
And problems holding my cutlery right when I sit at the table on family occasions

And I know my mother still worries from time to time
I guess after so long she's learning to realise more often than not
When I'm silent it means that I'm already sorry for not speaking up
For not using my voice to talk about what I've been going through

And that's why I'm scared of you

Because even before I had chance to explain
You were tending to my wounds and soothing my aches
I never thought I'd feel comfort again
And I know what this is because my hands have stopped shaking
I hesitate to call it by name just in case it gets taken away again
I know that it's love but what if I'm not enough?

Because regardless of how soft the touch I still bruise
And I break when I think about how it must look to you
As I tremble and shake in the bed that we've only just started to make