Poetry: when one try's to interpret their emotions onto paper

To the Deep

I am not shallowed;

I am not meant to be half ended;

I am not half ended;

I am not made to be loved shallowed,, or with half a heart;

I am made to love and to be loved,

With every fiber of my soul, loving so hard and deeply; your breathless and gasping for air;

Because this heat is so undeniably there.

It is hot and so present and intense;

It's like the woodsy ash of a fire's smoke when it fills your lungs,

It's so hot, strong;

But It doesn't burn like whiskey;

And it doesn't sting like the ashy smoke rumbling you with a cough;

It's warm;

Like brandy;

It's warm like the blankets in front of the fireplace; and soft like a lovers touch;

It's comforting like the hold of your lovers body keeping to yours spread in front of the fire; embraced by the fort of the pillows from the couch.

It's familiar;

Like the nostalgia Autumn seems to bring; year-after-year;

It's home, like the soft echos of laughter and voices surrounded by the family— and friends who have become family;

All the while your special loved one's arms are holding you in gently but firm from behind.

It's that comfort knowing they're always there , and they always will be; to be there if you so need it.

Knowing those eyes will be what you'll be gazing back into with that smile on your lips. Which you don't realize it's there until you can't stop smiling.

"I love you."

A peck on the nose; and foreheads gently leaning together.

The comfort of that deep ocean; the dark depths; that scare your own self;

and the clear shallow,, the blue lagoons;

is both of yours to share.

"I love you." Again.

5/10/2022

Edited: 7/4/2024

— Shilopink