It Starts Slow

It always starts slow,

but I don't know what it is.

I don't know what to do,

and I think I'm falling behind.

Its cold out here,

and I want to go home,

but no one wants me back.

I ran into the street,

I heard the car tires screeching,

and someone yelling at me,

 to get out of the way.

I just stood there with eyes close,

waiting for impact,

but it never came.

Out of no where I felt arms around me,

pulling me out of the street.

 I heard someone crying,

then I realized it was me,

 and I heard the words of comfort floating around my head,

they were being told to to me,

words said as if I matter to someone.

This person told me that he would protect,

he would save me,

and even if I wanted to believe him,

I couldn't there was just to much pain.

It will always start slow,

at the time I didn't even know what love was,

but now I do,

and now I know what to do to stop falling behind,

now I am home.