Once upon a time,
I met love before first sight.
It felt like a gift,
a chance to ignite.
I have this belief
that I'm scared to prove right.
Because every time I ask
it usually ends up in a fight.
But in a fight of just one.
Me on my hands and bruised knees.
Blood drips from my mouth
and I wipe it so no one sees.
That I have this belief
that had grown weary with time.
That love is not a distant friend.
But a long awaited memory of mine.
Somewhere this belief
that at time is too much to mention,
holds the same calloused hand
that still begs for its attention.
Because I still do believe it.
That love does exist.
Even when my heart lays shattered.
Even when it's love I've always missed.
Like a train that just left.
Like a bus with no ticket.
Like a night so solemn.
There's nary a sounding cricket.
But in that silence,
held in those hands.
Is a young stupid heart
that still begs and demands.
Visible.
Tangible.
To know in certain time.
That I have this belief
that love will someday be mine.
Once upon a time,
I met love before first sight.
I rediscovered love
in a brand new way.
Now giving me again,
a spark in my heart
that forever will stay.
