A Second Chance

When did it start hurting?
This love that we carried in back pockets and displayed on fireplace mantels,
In picture frames that we forgot to dust.

When did it start tearing at the crease?
This love that we folded and hemmed too tightly into the fashions of our seasons.
We took it apart, since it seemed to be lacking.
Then desperately tried to reconstruct that, whose original shape we had lost.
We abbreviated it until finally, it could fit into one of our small boxes.

This love, which we kicked off its pedestal, came crashing down at our feet.
All damaged and fractured, it lay on our floors, weak and deflated.
Rounds of botox, cures of vitamins, all failed to restore that which had lost its bounce.
So it stretched on, sticky as an old chewed up piece of gum, trapped between the hot asphalt and the soles of our shoes.

When did it stop harping a sweet melody on the strings of our hearts?
This funny treasure, that we kept locked up in dark safety deposit boxes,
Hoping one day, to cash in on a hefty return on investment.

When did it become too heavy?
This love that we no longer cared to carry in our hearts,
But set on the ground and moved along with a shove of the knee.

When did it become irrelevant?
This love that we exchanged for something with teeth, something meaner.

It felt too oozy, too gooey, this love that left our stomachs, churning in discomfort from too much sweetness.

So we buffed it up, this lanky love, pumped it up with emotions and feelings,
Until it felt fuller in our hands and weighty enough to hurl in self-defense.

When did we give up on it?
This love that we cast aside, though it can single-handedly, tame the fiercest giants, with the small fires it ignites deep within their hearts.  
Can we go back to the time before we started mishandling it?
This love that we now want back for a second chance; a do over.