Perfect Shelf

I’ve held my hopes in quiet hands,  
Looked for love in sinking sands.  
Fell for smiles that weren’t meant true 
Told myself they almost knew.  

I’ve been strong in nights that felt too long,  
But strength, alone, can feel all wrong.  
I want a hand to meet my own  
Not to fix me, but feels like home.  

Sometimes I feel it’s all my fault
Maybe I give too much, or halt.  
But I just wanted something to stay.  
So I kept hoping, anyway.  

I’m not worn out by love itself  
Not longing for some perfect shelf.  
I’m just tired of chasing signs,  
In people who could never be mine.  

I want a love that meets me where I stand,  
No power games, no sleight of hand.  
A love that’s crystal clear,  
Not built on maybe, doubt, or fear.  

So let it come when it is time,  
With no conditions, rules, or rhyme.  
Let it be soft, kind, and near  
And find me when I’m finally clear.  

By Ray. K