I searched his eyes for what he says is there, only to find emptiness.
Remembering vaguely opening my heart one time before, only to find it crushed and lifeless.
I admit to having sabotaged situations because I was afraid of being hurt, even though things were good, I left…
Shut my heart down, realizing the hurt that I caused and had to endure in an attempt to prevent further pain. But it was already beyond repair.
It took time to get it back somewhat mended, a Band-Aid here, a Band-Aid there, but always cautious. Defensive.
I said that I would never let it go again. But I did.
This time, I entered shielded. Covered. Protected. Ready for the bad, and definitely accepting of the good.
He was a conqueror. I, unyielding to penetration, would not allow myself to become a conquest.
But he had this charm about him, this dimple in his smile, this perfect touch of overwhelming calm that could mute a storm.
And I loved it, and was caught.
He whisked me away in his splendor, and I eventually gave in…
Defenses down. Protection gone. Vulnerability eminent.
I let him in. Only for him to show himself, and create havoc in his wake.
While I was attempting to understand the situation, he dug the knife deep into my hurt…
He then pulled it out licked the blood off, and walked far away…
I collapsed, clenching my chest, as I lay there silent, motionless, unprepared, I took what I thought would be my final breath…
But after it, I breathed again, and again, and again…
I got up with the realization that love was not real.
So I closed my heart off to the prospect of it – at all
I completely withdrew my heart, making it impossible to touch,
Impossible to change, impossible to penetrate.
Then came you… breathing life into me…
But because of what I know, I inhale you… slowly…
With caution in every respiration
Because I do not know your intent. I do not know your heart.
But I know mine…
In its current blackened state, it does not believe in love,
But you snuck in with superglue and started mending the pieces that were still broken
You spoke to it daily, making it stronger; protecting it as if it were your own.
You gave it little flecks of color and a beat…
Not a strong beat, but enough of one to let the blood flow begin again.
Still, I am nervous, cautious, afraid of what could be,
Still unwilling to take that chance, you assure me that everything will be fine.
I want to believe you, and I do, so I take your hand and go with you to love.