The Things That Hide In Our Souls

The concept of love

I met you before dawn.
Too late for you to grasp the concept of who I was.
Too early for you to find out who I might be.

So we drifted between dusk and dawn, sharing bits and pieces of ourselves that we weren't sure about yet.
Slowly shaping each other into beings we thought we needed.

I drenched myself in your comfort and you drenched yourself in my heat.

We are nothing more than bone, blood and flesh walking around as if our existance was important in a world with more than 7 billion existances.

Believing our words actually meant more than they did.

What is love?

You can't taste it, you can't touch it, you can't see it. In the eyes of the literal it does not exist.

But it revels in the figurative every gray cloud has a Fucking invisible silver lining.

How is it that this abstract thing with no armies and no guns no fists and no Needle's can destroy entire families?