If you were a letter

If you were a letter
You would be some sort of stale parchment
smothered in a dark, crisp ink
writing; calling out my name,
asking me for help
telling me that you felt flat and your heart felt cold
(maybe you didn't have a heart)
telling me that you wanted to love me
as I am
as I have been
telling me that you wanted to reach out to me

If you were an umbrella
You would be made of the thinnest material
held together by only the twigs
set up by the hands of young children
who looked up to you, grasping for you
asking you to show them what you knew
but you would push them away.

If you were a sand castle
You would stand right by the ocean,
tall and proud; and unknowing of your potential danger
as I am
as I have been
You would glow in the sun, and the children
would jump on your back, and you'd be destroyed.
You would crack in the afternoon heat, hoping to one day
be remade, as I am
as I have been

And if you were a human,
(because God knows you aren't one)
maybe you would learn to love me
as I am
as I have been.