Silently at War

There's a war in my head, and my heart's staying out of it. You're making me break every single rule I've ever etched in stone, and I'm locked in a battle within myself. The voices won't shut up when you're gone. They tell me the abandoned graveyard of my dead selves with flowers sprouting from empty chests and shriveled hearts grasped in bony fingers will scare you off, and the fiery landscape of the desolated plains that make up my emotions will scorch you and make you wish for a cooler drink of water. They also say the ice capped mountains of my broken heart beats will make you wish for a warmer love, and that the dragons that guard my thoughts will throw scathing words and poisonous fumes and keep you at bay. They told me the tigress that holds my heart in her blood-stained claws will never let it go, that the fear will grip and cut me to shreds before your eyes and your eyes will fill with disgust, and, much worse, pity. They said you'd wake up one morning and see how broken I am, and that the cracks can't be covered up or stitched together, and I will be too much for you... and you'll leave me, like everyone else, more broken than before and wishing I had never met you... and you wishing you'd never met me.They tell me you'll leave, eventually. You'll grow tired of me, and wander off into the sunset with someone else, someone infinitely more deserving of your love, and not this empty vessel who is never good enough. 

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But when you're there, and you have an arm around my shoulders, the voices stop, and I start feeling. Maybe the abandoned graveyard won't scare you away, maybe you'd take my hand and walk through it with me, while I tell you the stories the skeletons can't. There's a small chance you might be the reason why the polar ice capped mountains begin to melt and start flooding my emotional deserts and they become lush green gardens instead of despicable wastelands. Maybe the dragons will decide to fly away, and the tigress will decide to fall asleep, for once. Maybe the fear will not grip me as heavily this time, and all I will come out with are scratches and a few stitches, and you'll hold me and we'd laugh about it after. Maybe you'll never tire of me, like you said. Maybe I'm worth it this time, maybe I'm enough, finally.
Maybe you're it, finally... But the Tigress and the Dragons refuse to silence themselves, and the voices are still screaming in your absence. There's too much wildness in me to tame, and I'm afraid because you're afraid. But you kiss me so gently sometimes, I start hoping it's me and you, and that sunset in the end; the reds, blues, purples and oranges playing along with the bright pinks and pale yellows. Then you put your arms around my waist, and it makes me think that you'll fight my monsters just fine, and do it with a smile on your face.