Now when I'm numb out of weariness,
So much that I can't even feel
The pain of my overstretched
Ear piercing's wound...
Let me ask you again,
Arguably the most cliché question:
What is Love?
Is it the belief
That makes me believe,
Loving is never supposed to be hard
Or harsh by any means,
Rather it's actually the easiest,
And the ease of it
Makes me willing to break free
From all other hardships out there?
Is it the urge
To be the most chaotic
And mannerless, while
Being the most calm and content...
Embracing the wilderness
As well as the serenity when I'm with you,
Paying no heed to the judging
Eyes of the civilization?
Or, is it just a genius conspiracy
Of my neurotransmitters...
A rollercoaster of dopamine,
Oxytocin, adrenaline, serotonin,
And all other weirdly named
Chemical compounds that help
To execute this sublime idea,
For which I can never be ungrateful?
A few poetic lines?
A warm back rub?
A gaze for a moment's fraction?
A house of words?
Let me ask you again,
Arguably the most cliché question:
What is Love?
YOU ARE READING
Remainders
PoetryA collection of poetry about the leftovers of human feelings. _____________________________________________ ** No part of this book should be copied or published anywhere else.** © Ipsita Mitra Pupu _____________________________________________ ✷All...
