Love is what makes my heart beat in the worlds most innocent rhythm.
Love is the reason I cry every time a sentence starts with him.
Love is the reason I no longer want to love.
Love is what puts rings on fingers and locks on hearts so thick that you would think there was money in there.
Love is what you see when you look into those familiar eyes.
Love is what you feel when they touch you.
Love is what you hear when they speak.
Love is what you smell when you embrace them.
Love is what you taste when your lips dare graze theirs.
Love is what makes people run to insanity, it is also what makes people become sane.
Love is what brings the most pain to a pained body, mind and soul.
But love is something that cannot be described in simple words.
Love is what makes you want to give them the world.
Neither diamonds or pearls will suffice.
Love is what locks you in a vice and then beats you like it has the same face as Ray Rice. Slice and dice.
Love is what marks you as either broken or newly saved.
Never concave is what your heart becomes.
A war involving love can never be won.
In short words, love is both pleasure and pain.
Both the sun and the rain.
Love will remain the indescribable feeling.
Leaving you wanting and leaving me needing.
Always needing.
Always bleeding.
YOU ARE READING
Words.
PoetryThis is a book I write in to relieve my mind of the horror it creates for itself. Poems or not, they're words. Definitions or examples, they're words. My words. Read it or not, they're my words.
