Love will not be the easy things;
Love is still looking forward to seeing somebody after crying over them for weeks.
It's being in love with the wolf even though you are a daisy under its paw.
It isn't easy to love him,
It isn't easy to love the wolf.
After all, the wolf never craves true love.
It only craves primal things,
And maybe that's what love is.
Maybe love isn't endearing notes on your pillow case,
Maybe it's the bruises he leaves lovingly on your body.
Or the scratches that you carve into his back.
Maybe it's the aftermath of fights,
Or the storm of emotions in the middle of them.
True love isn't settling,
It's the hurricane.
A.K
YOU ARE READING
The Trees Talk
PoetryThe trees talk, they know what goes through your mind. The trees, they scream. +previously Perfection and Deception+
