Somewhere Through The Hurt

"I've discovered the paradox that I can love until it actually hurts.
But then the hurt is gone and there is only more love."
Mother Theresa


True love is elusive, it's escaped me for years
I sometimes flirt with it, but calls of freedom always reappear

With each new love, my world opens, dissolving sense of self
And I let my suitor merge, with macho bravado and stealth

Men feel they have earned me, possessed me through the night
Sweet lovemaking masquerade, an illusion cloaked in light

But the secret pain I hold is old - it's worn and cold as stone
A dark empty place deep in my soul, where I will always be alone

It's guarded and booby-trapped, though I may let some near
Soul wounds and scar tissue are much too thick to tear

So I wait for one special knight, he with the sharpest blade
I brush away the tears, and pretend I'm not afraid

With hopes that my saltwater will corrode these deformed prison bars
And the next time I fear love, I'll move closer, not apart
And just maybe, if I'm lucky, perhaps I'll find the truth:
That the path to "more love" waits, somewhere through the hurt.