Dear Love,
To whomever may say that you are easy and carefree they have lied. You are an all consuming love. You are what we dream about in our dreams but you are most of all an confusing and irritating little bug which we can never extract ourselves from.
We bend ourselves backwards in able to feel an ounce of what you are; most lie, steal, cheat and betray for you, love. Nothing can compare to the incessant budding of joy you are when fully received. To love is to live for love is very much apart of what life is. It is a mirage of overwhelming emotions that come with just the price of breathing. There are exquisite days and then there are horrid days which we come by in the quest for love.
Nothing is ever guaranteed when you are involved love but real love, the kind you feel deep down in our soul is the love worth fighting for. The love that tears you apart day and night, where you toss and turn and slowly and surely rip pieces of your essence for another is the love that is worthy.
Giving love to another is the definition of vulnerable. When it is out in the open for another to handle in palm of their out stretched, engraved palms, is when your world can be stomped upon like yesterday's chalked out hopscotch outline.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary:
PuisiPoetry is life. And sometimes all you need is a new perspective. To help you hold your head up high.
