I love you in the darkened hours,
Where the cracks in your soul glitter like shattered glass,
Each piece—your flaw, your scar,
A piece of my devotion, etched in shadowed hues.
The light cannot kiss you without kissing the broken parts first,
So let me cradle them, these fractured remnants,
In the sanctuary of my hands.

Each bruise, a map of the battles you’ve fought
And survived, each fracture,
A road sign leading to a deeper truth.
I see you in the bleeding echoes,
Where your heart’s wounds pulse like whispered prayers,
And I hold them with reverence.
You are the tapestry of this life,
Threaded with brokenness, yet stitched with sacred intent.

In the hollow of your chest, I see my own heart
A twin flame of darkness,
Reveling in the beauty of imperfection.
Every shard of you is a star in the sky
I would catch, even if it scorched my skin.

You are not broken, my love,
You are sacred,
And I will carry your weight—
For you need not carry your scars alone.