A Prompt

I bumped into a prompt a week ago and I immediately rolled my eyes and thought why would I write about that. But here I am a week later with a page filled with a response to the prompt.

The prompt is in a form of a questionand it says; "Where does your love come from?"
And here's what I wrote:

I don't even know where to start simply because I still grapple with the concept
I haven't wrecked my brain long enough for a definition
I haven't dragged my soul out of hell towards healing for a healed definition
What I am able to offer is dull and murky version and no one loves the darkness that much sadly
I still refuse to piece together the pieces of my heart so how can I even begin to construct a sentence or even think of what the word love could possibly means when the instrument I need to listen to for an answer is shattered?

I used to think I ran away from love at every chance I got but I'm starting to think that it keeps running aways from me because it knows it'll be the death of me
But death is not ready to collect...
I have however disowned love effortlessly so. I couldn't accept its existence in my life cause the thought of being nakedness, bare off all imperfections
My heart couldn't bare the thought
One thing I am sure of is that love will strip me off the high walls, multiple flaws and expose my disintegrated soul
Is there someone out there willing to integrate their souls into mine??

Maybe after meeting you dear stranger
Maybe then you'll help me find the place where my love comes from...