We always prefer to keep loving someone who gives us nothing but heartbreak in return. We ended up putting our entire love without having an assurance of reciprocation.
We just love how we love and how we entertain ourselves with so much imaginations of finally being accepted. We feed ourselves with reasons to get hurt.
We love despite the bleakness. We love despite the agony. We love despite the unclear journey. We love despite not having certain destination.
We love despite of not being loved back.
There's something about loving the wrong one—the unmeant one. We begin loving pain because it became the only thing that felt new and unpredictable.
We love despite the hurt.
And here we are,
loving the ones who hurt us
and hurt the ones who love us.
YOU ARE READING
POETRY THAT STAYS
PoésieYou don't really love someone, not until they become the person behind of your poetries. When poetry speaks, it echoes through your soul, lingers in your heart, and dances in your dreams. And... it stays. I wrote poems enough for people to ask, "w...
