Love is not butterflies
Or kissing in the dark
Or the waves that crash over your heart
when you look at him.
Love is not the warmth in your blood
when he's near
And you can feel his tough hands
and listen to his voice like fire
in your kindling ear.
Love is not the cracking glass of his soul
that you try to swoop in and save
with your love that you believe
is as endless as the sea.
Love is not the smiles
that light up your night
When life is dim and you feel like
The star light of his eyes is the only thing that matters in the dark.
Love is not that tug in your gut
That says yes
Or the pound of the tempo
keeping time in your chest.
Love is fighting
but wanting desperately to fix
to see that smile
even if it means relenting
In the name of caring.
Love is the cracking of your soul
and finding you don't need him
to fix the wrongs of your world
but he's the one you want as your hero
despite his character flaws.
He is the man
You would be proud to have a son
In the exact replica of
in the world to proudly stand.
He is the one
that you would see flaws
but love him none the less.
Love is complex.
Love is simple.
Love is the glue of this world
And we are the paper.
We are not puzzles to be completed
But colors to be complemented.
We are not peas of a pod
But two broken people in search of
The one who will look past
Our broken parts.
Just weary travelers
who just want someone who
will help us unpack the baggage
that weighs down our souls.
Someone who sees the dirty laundry
the skeletons in our closet
or the dirt on our hands
and offers to help clean up the mess.
YOU ARE READING
A Compilation of My Soul
CasualeThe best way to describe this is just as the title says- a compilation of my soul. These are the short stories, the poems, the scenes never completed, the lessons I have discovered in me through the years. I believed it only right to share them with...
