Strange that there was something safe
about wanting people who broke my heart 
but not my pattern. 
Eventually my back would snap
& I'd be trapped by my feelings. 
I'd be troubled by trails of ash 
where bridges used to be, 
by skeletons of wounded pride,
& shadowed hearts craving my light.  
When I chose people who hurt me 
maybe it's because really
I was scared of 
real love.
I chased deeper feelings
but never rested with them.