Growing up, love was ignorance.
Ignoring the yelling,
Ignoring the throwing,
Ignoring the muffled cries of fearful tears.
Because I love you, I must tell you the truth.
Love is comfort.
Love is ease.
Love has no bounds of disease.
Growing up, Ms. Mary Mac never came back.
Growing up, love evolved.
Whispers of desperation turned to consolations -
The slight brisk of someone pulling your hair back.
Humpy Dumpty sat on a wall,
But did not have to worry about a fall.
Love is not selfish.
Love is not childish.
Love is a freefall of strength with endless comfortability.