the way love speaks to me

There’s a girl behind the counter
at the local drugstore,
counting the hours in a life
she never meant to live.
but there’s someone waiting at home,
and for now,
that’s enough to keep her warm.

and another, in a bookstore,
who disappears between the shelves,
searching through other people’s stories
for something she’s lost in her own.
she’s learned enough about love
to know how much it can take.

somewhere, a woman has everything
she once believed she wanted,
a life carefully put together,
with nothing obviously missing
except the feeling
that something is.

and somewhere else,
another holds on to a love
that’s already letting go.
she knows the difference
between staying and belonging,
but hasn’t learned how to leave.

then there’s the one
who gives herself to others,
who still knows how to care
but has forgotten how to believe.

i know her best.
she is me.

and maybe that’s how love speaks to me,
through the lives of women
who have loved,
who have lost,
who have stayed too long
or learned to leave.

because love never looks quite the same
from one life to another,
but the hurt is familiar,
and so is the hope
of putting something broken
back together.

though even when it heals,
the heart remembers
where it broke.