She asked about my love Iife or the lack thereof, I laughed, I sobered, and I answered.
Imagine, you want something, you need it, you crave it, I mean all the molecules and atom in you long for it, your flesh, bone, blood and veins want and need it.
So, you put an effort, you work for it, you even suffer for it, you starve for it, you toil for it. You ache for it so you do things, rational and irrational, logical and senseless, all because, you, my love, are desperate for it, and happily, but sadly, you almost get it, almost, just a little bit more, a little inch more, a little step more, just a little more, so you break and stretch and strain yourself, only to have it wrenched from your reach, taken farther and farther away, all efforts wasted, all time wasted.
You break, you waste away, you shatter, and in a while, you rise up, like a phoenix from the ashes, you rise, but sadly, you go again, again and again, not giving up on it, you go through the same process with a determined and healed but scarred heart, ready, with the mantra hoping for the best, but expecting the worse.
J feel the universe should cut me some slack, and just give it me, but if wishes were horses, beggars will definitely ride, so that's my love life, or the lack thereof.
15:7:2021. 11:26pm
______ Ellieao
YOU ARE READING
Something Mending -- VOL 1
PoetryOf Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength...
