Love don’t live here anymore,
Not even love for self.
Thought I’d written the book in younger years; that same book now collecting dust on a shelf.
I knew of love; how to give and receive, but those days have long passed.
Now shadows of doubt, self-consciousness and fear have unwittingly been cast.
I long for the days it came easy; the way it consumed my soul.
The days that it embraced me; the days it made me whole.
I long for the peace of mind in knowing that everything would be fine.
The days you held me in your arms; The moment our hearts aligned.
But love don’t live here anymore. Of it I’ve made a mockery.
I somehow convinced it to trust me with it’s lock, then purposely broke off the key.
Love, if you’re listening, I’m sorry. I never meant for us to fall apart.
Love, I’m begging you to forgive me, so that we may have a fresh start.
If we cross paths again I’ll be open, to listen to your every word.
I’ll hinge on every syllable, as if a new language I’ve recently heard.
I owe you so much more than that, but it’s a start nonetheless.
For I am the one, from start to finish, that got us into this mess.
Love don’t live here anymore, though my walls are starting to crumble.
In hopes that love and I are one day reacquainted; remembering always to stay gracious and humble.
Love may not live here now, but that won’t always be the case.
For in our time apart, I’ve still been coveting a special place.
Love, if you’ll have me, I’m yours, to do with whatever you please.
The first time I may not have been ready but now my head knows what my heart sees.