Old Habits

Remember when you crashed into me?
A bruise strewn body with a beaten heart
filled with an insatiable desire for love.
The girl you once met has gone,
though the woman left in her place finds evidence,
clues that spell out an incomprehensible simplicity
that is known as love, that galaxy of multitudes.
There is a faint glimmer of hope residing,
glittering in the most tempting of fashions.
Time has delivered us both to the same place
slightly wrinkled, seldom worn and leaking warmth.
Wariness be damned, old habits are enduring.

Growing up means that we are hurt,
vigorously and repeatedly ripped apart,
sometimes deeply maiming ourselves
until the day that we learn not to pick our scabs.
She no longer pokes her wounds to discover
just how intensely she can feel pain.
She continues to rush in her pursuit,
to fulfill the longing that refuses to cease,
wistfully romantic and recklessly restless.
These are the keepsakes she left behind.

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