The Road

I never asked for your vindication when I confessed that I loved you.
I knew the second those words left my fingers that there was no way your heart was ready.
I never asked for your permission to love you.
I am not your property. I am not your submissive, nor your slave.
I never asked for your heart in return.
I know that I am always the first to fall feet first.
The road that leads to your heart
may be treacherous,
full of beggars, murderers, kleptomaniacs, and con-artists,
possibly death, destruction and chaos.
I am but an unarmed, unprotected woman-child,
susceptible to all of these things,
and more.
I may walk through fires,
cut my feet on broken glass,
blister my hands from climbing,
starve,
thirst,
and collapse,
but I promise you,
I will not give up.
I have been broken, bruised, battered, bitten,
I have died,
and been ressurrected.
I have braved the coldest of winters,
sweated through the hottest of summers,
prayed through the barest of autumns,
and plowed through the fields of spring.
I am an unprotected, unarmed woman-child.
And though I may suffer,
I may hurt,
I may crumble,
I will crawl toward your heart
on cracked knees
and busted hands
to prove
my love,
and to earn yours.
I never asked you for vindication,
I never asked you for permission.
I never asked you for love.
I expected to earn it.
The best rewards we receive in this life,
are those we have honorably earned.