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“Today I called a depression hotline Because I was awake before the sun and Nobody else was. A woman on the other end answered. Just before I opened my mouth I thought about if anyone ever thought to Ask them if they were alright. So I did. Over the phone I could almost hear her smile as she said “I’m doing just fine.” I’ve been conditioned to hold my breath When I walk by cemeteries or When ambulances pass by. Sometimes it is not always beauty that robs your lungs. In the 5th grade I accidentally broke a boy’s finger. I feel guilty about it still. I’ve been single for almost a decade. When I was telling my friend about Another botched attempt at getting close with a girl she said “You’re too soft for a man. You’re too nice. Girls want to hug boys like you, not kiss them.” I can’t help that my arms tremble when I hold someone, I don’t want to break something so precious. I can’t help that I cry more out of love than I do sadness. I am not a shell, I am not steel. My skin is dark but it is not rough. My body writes checks out to any homeless heart. My lips bruise trying to talk people into sleep. I am soft, I am tender.”