unfinished (?) and untitled.

To begin,

you were never mine.
In vain were the skips that my heart made.
Thoughts and prayers sent up
Only to be returned with unwanted answers.
You were never mine.
I tried to find love in you,
But to no avail.
I wonder what I've done,
Why I gave some of my heart away.
You were never mine
And I was never yours.

But then,

bitter tastes slowly subside
like the winter winds morphing into spring breath.
Wounds healing
as the truth that 'love is a process' is believed,
stirs up the soul, and
ignites promise
like the coming of summer raindrops on a slow southern afternoon.
The love that is present around me and
the love that is not yet
wraps me up
like a worn blanket once the autumn cool has set in.