Love is a strange thing,
accompanied with a strange feeling.
The feeling in which your cheeks are always warm,
and your heart is always racing.
Sometimes your palms get sweaty,
and your speech becomes terrible.
Suddenly your mind is clouded with thoughts,
thoughts that you never wanted to have.
You suddenly one day wake,
and you're no longer the person you used to be.
Now the world is so bright,
with birds chirping and blue skies.
Your heart races at the thought of them,
and you never stop smiling.
Your life seems to have purpose,
all because they held your hand.
I treat my hands like they are glass,
like they are the windows that reveal my life to the world.
I clean them constantly,
to make sure that they are perfect.
Love blinded me from the smudges on my hands,
the ones left behind from her.
Love left me oblivious to the handprint,
the one that was a constant reminder.
- v.m
YOU ARE READING
happiness + sadness.
PoetryWe write to write to escape what it is that is hidden in the deepest crevasses of our minds, to escape from the reality that brings us down, to forget that the world is sometimes terribly cruel. We write to get the words out of our heads that we ha...
