Good Luck Hugging A Porcupine
You warn everyone up front that you are a bad idea with legs
a walking no-contact advisory wrapped in leather and secondhand denim
You make jokes about abandonment before anyone else can
toss out lines like “I bite, I bolt
I fuck things up for sport” just to see if they can stem ‘em
Your texts come in bursts of hysteria and silence
three days of memes and over-sharing
then you vanish without a word like a magic trick nobody requested
People call you intense, too much, moody
trouble; you shrug and say “yeah
good luck hugging a porcupine” like the verdict’s already been tested.
Under all that spiny sarcasm sits a kid who learned way too early that warmth carried a price tag
hugs had fine print, comfort could flip on a dime
Every arm around your shoulders felt like a countdown
every “always” sounded like a lie waiting for the worst possible time
You started growing jokes like quills
grew barbed humor along your spine till anyone who got too close learned to laugh or bleed
Now you call it personality, punk charm, personal brand
while your chest still aches every time someone leaves at normal speed.
You say “I am not romantic lead material
I am comic relief with knives
” Yet some nights when you forget to act
your guard drops and you talk about wanting to come home to the same set of lives
That slip of honesty hits like a startled heartbeat under all the jives.
Good luck hugging a porcupine
that is the warning label stamped across your grin
Sharp jokes pointed outward
sharper doubts digging deep under your skin
Still I see the soft belly you keep hidden when the room gets too bright
Good luck hugging a porcupine
challenge accepted every night.
You test people with little stings
cancel plans last minute
pick fights over nothing just to see who bolts and who stays
You drop “fuck off
I do not need anyone” in the same breath you ask if they got home safe
built for push and pull in twisted ways, Most back off
call you toxic, dramatic, exhausting
take their gentle hearts and pack them in bubble wrap for safer friends
The ones who hang around learn to read past the spikes
to hear the shaking in your voice when you say you “do not care how this ends.”
You are not easy, not low maintenance
not the person who glides through parties leaving a trail of calm in their wake
You are the storm in the kitchen, the spilled drink
the too loud laugh
the sharp remark that cuts through the fake
Under all of that
there is a soft creature that never got taught how to take.
Good luck hugging a porcupine
that is the warning label stamped across your grin
Sharp jokes pointed outward
sharper doubts digging deep under your skin
Still I see the soft belly you keep hidden when the room gets too bright
Good luck hugging a porcupine
challenge accepted every night.
If I pull you in and you flinch, swear
call yourself names that hurt you worse than any ex ever tried
I will step back only long enough to let you breathe
then come in sideways, no halo, no pride
I am not here to declaw you, not here to tame your wild
not here to sand down every spike till you fit on a postcard shelf
I just want to be the idiot who learns how to hold you without bleeding too much
and teach you how to hold yourself.
Good luck hugging a porcupine
that is what they say when they walk away from your strange light
I am still here with band-aids and bad jokes and a stubborn will to ride out every fight
If you ever feel too sharp to live
too dangerous to keep around
Good luck hugging a porcupine
I call that phrase a dare and I’m standing my ground.
One day you will look down
notice the quills bending toward trust instead of war
Porcupine heart, I am still here, arms open
bleeding a little, coming back for more.