Love is butterflies and stolen moments and smiling just because you remembered those moments.
It is the sun and rain, day and night, light and dark.
It is the most painfully beautiful feeling in the world.
If they leave, a part of you follows them out the door because they were your other half.
Love is pain and tears and curling up on the couch because you just feel like not going on.
Love can lift you to the highest cloud, highest mountain on wings of drugless ecstasy.
At the same time, love can tear you to pieces with teeth made of jealousy and white-hot rage.
It sits on the thrones of afterlife and underworld. thrones made of hope and poison.
So, what is love?
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Random Poetical Moments (Most Definitely Not Updated Regularly)
PoetryWe all have those moments where we write a poem or think of something kind of poetical. Well this is, I guess, my poem log. Everything in here is/was my own works (I will include stuff from when I was younger). These are all my own poems and though...
