The empty blue box rests unopened in my purse,
Its edges wearing away as each day goes by,
Shut it has stayed for two and a half months.

Aside from the few times,
The few times I let myself open it,
Open it to remember its emptiness,
Its emptiness that shatters my dreams,
My dreams no longer reality,
And in that moment, reality becomes all too real.

The ring may never return to the white cushioned interior,
The ring may never return,
The ring may never.

May never come back to rekindle my hope,
My hope could be a lost cause,
A lost cause for love,
Love, a ring.

It all lies in his hands,
The hands that once held mine,
The hands that made my whole body shiver,
The hands that pulled me into his kiss,
His kiss filling the space between us,
Between us, nothing.
Us, everything.

But the empty blue box rests unopened in my purse,
Its edges wearing away as each day goes by,
Shut it has stayed for two and a half months,
Shut it will stay until love finds its way.