Traumas

In the last seven hundred and twenty days I have learned both that with arms outstretched, you will not come running in for an embrace, and that I cannot use them for flight to find you. My arms now crossed like a heart on my chest, and I get called uninviting. I say those do not know what it is to crash land with only your bare body.

And I am still crying. 
Not over my broken knuckles and jaw, but for those who could not put two and two together.