I Don't Want to Fall In Love

I would rather not fall in love again.

Not with a boy, and all their fickle opinions and volitile desires.

Maybe with the color blue, soft blankets, green eyes, the moon.

Maybe with a rainstorm {if it ever did rain anymore}, a good book, an old picture of you.

I could fall in love with a song, the perfect harmonies and melodies and drop drum beat seaping into my chest like the loveliest of colds. A favorite affliction.

I could fall in love with the side of a face, the shape of your hands, the scent of my sleeping children.

A hot shower, a quiet evening, a long walk in the cold.

Heavy jackets, winter boots, tight jeans and good booze.

Perhaps I will fall in love with safe things.

Things that don't leave, don't lie, don't swell and fall like the sea, always changing their mind.

For now I would be OK with just knowing my heart is still capable of love, but my soul is at peace on its own.

For now I just want to know that I still can feel the way I once did.

Even if I don't.
Even if I choose not to, anymore.