An abandoned room with a desk full of papers,

A burial site of a teenage unrequited love story.

The dried up pens retired from long hours of cheap labor,

The waste basket choked on raw emotional infatuation.

Cracked, broken picture frames lie helplessly on the floor,

A thousand words without complete sentences.

The light bulb revoked the spotlight on the show,

The stage crew gave up on cutting out paper butterflies.

The microphone, still turned on, awaits for a solo,

Tapping for an approval initiates a spark of interest.

"Testing, testing, testing."

The breath of a hopeless romantic heaves a sigh of relief.

"I'm back, everyone," I announce.

"Embrace the love wounds because I am free."

Overwhelming mental congestion for perfection,
Socially influenced blueprints of future attraction.
Constructive criticism given by construction workers,
The labor of family and friends for reassurance.

A solid foundation of first impressions,
Structured walls of growth and development.
Insulation of natural feelings and experiences,
Ventilation to cool down the heated encounters.

Electrical wiring of an emotional and physical connection,
A circuitry of passion and romance with a light switch.
Hardwood flooring for candle lit dinners and ballroom dancing,
Granite kitchen counters for intimate midnight snacks.

An attractive exterior siding to woo the public eye,
A secure lock of commitment on all the doors.
A roof of trust, and a picket fence,
And now, my love,

I’m simply yours.