The Porcelain Peices.

Half of the Porelain Bowl.
I've been Broken for so Long.
I've Forgotten what it was like
to be Whole.

My other Half.
Placed together and Restored,
Inadverdently,
Surprisingly,
we still fit Together.

Found a way,
to Love Again.

- - -

A long time ago, back when I first started dating Mike, a good friend asked what it was like to be in love. I sort of brushed off the question, laughed, went on a rant about how teenagers could never find real love because we were always looking for it. I don't know if that's what I believe anymore, and I think that was partially the inspriation for this poem.

I don't think that anyone can find love if they're looking for it. It's gotta come and smash you in the face, knock the breath out of you, and press you into the pavement. It has to yell and shout to grab your attention, until it finally breaks you in half and says triumphantly, "Ha! Now you can't run away anymore, cause I've got you in a stranglehold!"

That's what being in love is like, I think. It's an accident, real love is, where everybody is shrugging their shoulders and saying "I don't know how, it just happened!"

Isn't that the way of all the best things?