Love.

They wait by the door
For their child to come home.
They see the smile on my skin
The star in my eye.
They sit me down.
And they say:
‘No, this isn’t love.
Oh, child, you don’t know love.
Oh, child, you’re not ready for love.
Oh, child, you’re too young to love.
A child; too young.’

Then they warn me
Of the broken hearts I’ll brave
The sleepless nights and the restless days
And of the ocean of tears that’s surely headed my way
If I think about love.
'Why?' I ask.
‘Why do people think of love?
If they’re fated to hurt,
Time and time again,
Why think about love?’
They smile at me
And say
‘Oh, child,
it’s best if man doesn’t.’

-
But they’re wrong.
This is love.
It isn’t their love; it is my love.
It’s our love, not their love.
This is first love, this is new love.
This is hopeful love.
I was alone inside my mind.
If the one who kills the fears, the starving pains, the jagged veins
The one who saves you from yourself
Isn’t the one you love
Who is?

Eventually
Time takes its toll as we begin to grow old
And reality kicks in.
Then, I see for myself
The broken hearts
The sleepless nights
The restless days
And, as we fade to a memory,
I know.
They were right.
It’s best not to think about love.

Until the next one.
Then the next,
And the rest.
Until the right one.

I wait by the door
For my child to come home.
I see the smile on her skin
The star in her eye.
I sit her down.
And I say:
‘Yes, this is love.
Oh, child, you don’t know love.
But, child, you’re ready for love.
Oh, child, lost in young love.
Not child, no more.’

And I warn her
Of the broken hearts she’ll brave
The sleepless nights and the restless days
And of the ocean of tears that’s surely headed her way
When she falls in love.
'Why?' she asks
'Why do people fall in love?
If they’re fated to hurt,
Time and time again,
Why fall in love?’
I smile at her
And say
‘Oh, child.
It is not man that makes us love
But, rather,
Love that makes us man.