I want to be passionate.
I want to spill over with joy,
and run into the arms of my lover,
like I would if they just came home from war,
when really their just coming home from work.
And my lover would twirl me around and smile
at my smile.
And I have this idea
that this is what perfection would be like.
Yet there is something about this love that makes me so
Uneasy.
Because the biggest part of me,
the dreadful and weary
realist part of me,
knows that I'll probably never have it.
Because I want to be passionate,
and spill over with joy when I think about perfect,
but how do I run in the arms of a future
that I can't even picture the face of?
YOU ARE READING
UPSWING
Poetryupswing: an increase in strength or quantity; an upward trend. a collection of poetry from a girl who falls in love with everything. //// welcome to my new poetry novel !! I'm so excited im back writing again !! this story is about my new journey...
