Broken Men and Hopeful Hearts

I crave broken men. I crave the need to fix what's broken. And these men are broken. I fall for them, for their shattered souls and ragged edges. Their eyes, once bright with hope, now reflect a fractured past. They are storms in human form, raging against the world, yet with a gentle touch, I think I can calm their tempests. But time and again, I learn that love cannot fix a heart destined to break. Each man carries a history of abandonment, betrayal, and pain. I, foolishly, believe I can be the glue. To heal what's torn. And they love me for it. For my kindness, my gentle ways. My heart, so willing to give. They cling to me as if I am their salvation. But I become their shadow, drowning in their despair.