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The Warm Spot in a Holey Blanket

Poetry for Imperfect People Who Love Other Imperfect People

by Lara Rouse

Copyright 2019 Lara Rouse

All Rights Reserved

Distributed by Smashwords

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. You may copy lines or poems from it for non-commercial sharing, if you would be so kind as to link to this book. Please encourage your friends to download a copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents

Brave it With Her

Infinitely More 1

I Try to Be Cool


Gilded Cage with an Open Door

Clown’s Tear

What Kind of Knight?

Behind the Finger

Love with Thorns


Talk to Me


Can't Fix You

When the China Rains Down

White Knight

The Warm Part of a Holey Blanket

Don’t Appraise the Diamonds


Metal is Cold

Infinitely More 2

Flesh and Blood, Not Paper


Please Touch Me

I Took My Art to Heart

Doesn’t Feel Like Love

What Can Be Made of This?

Create Your Own Garden

Up for It?

Brave it With Her

Look in her eyes,

and see the depth inside.

It’s not always pretty,

but it’s beautiful.

Brave it with her...

Infinitely More 1

I am not a vessel for your needs.

If you love me,

try to see all of me.

Respect and enjoy

as much as possible of me.

I am not

your good time girl,

good girl, bad girl,

savior, lover,

the one who’s always there,

the one like you,

the funny one,

the elusive one,

the mysterious one,

a body for your pleasure,

or your way to feel more like a man.

I’m a whole person.

If you love me,

try to appreciate

the whole person,

not to see me

as a vessel for your needs.

I Try to Be Cool

Why do I try to be cool

for cool people?

Maybe they’d love my fire.

Why do I try to be smooth

for smooth people?

Maybe they’d love my edges.


I can search

the unfathomable depths

of my heart

for gifts to you,

if you’ll do the same

for me.

Gilded Cage with an Open Door

Pretty tanager

perched on my finger,

stately as could be,

chirping just for me.

I will keep the bird,

its song always heard

by an adoring ear.

These thoughts I did rear.

But on my stepping,

he began flapping

and I cried to see

this pair couldn’t be.

I raised him in air

and let go with care,

watching the hard sight

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