What Love Is

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To love
is to break,
and not be afraid
of staying broken.

It is to ache
beautifully,
tortured by the
feel
of comfort,
and peace,
and joy.

It is to wonder,
what life had been before,
when loneliness
ruled.
Had you been truly living?

It is gratefulness
for something
to look forward to
each morning.

It is ease,
and laughter,
and perfect symphonies.

so i wrote this a little while back but forgot about it until right this moment. uh i'm not sure how to feel about this, it feels unfinished, like it ended abruptly and it could use some editing.

aria.

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