Skip to main content

Love like this comes once a lifetime

Love is when he drives you around town
All day and all night
So you can escape
From the turmoil of your suffocated mind.

Love is when he loves and cares for you
Nevertheless—
Even if you curse,
Even if you point,
Even if you hit him.

Love is when he loves me
For the monster in me.

Love is when he knows me,
My mind,
And the demons in my mind.

Love is when he writes about love—
And thinks about you.

Love is when he stays up all night,
Waiting for me.

Love is when he changes
And compromises himself
To adjust to me.

Love is when he fixes himself up
To care for me.

I cannot write them all,
Because it would take a lifetime.

Is that not love?

Love is when he works hard
For our future.

Love is when he sits with you
When you’re too tired
To scream out in pain.

Love is when he looks at you
With those eyes—

Those eyes.

Those beautiful brown eyes
That crinkle slightly when he smiles—
Looking so dashing,
So handsome,
And if I might—
Beautiful.

When he looks at me with those eyes,
Five years means nothing.

Although,
I don’t know how to show
How much I love him.

How foolish of me!

My feelings overwhelm me
When he’s with me.

But… one day,
Perhaps one day—
I would love him
The way he deserves to be loved.

I love him.
He knows that.

But someday,
If I could have the privilege of time,
He feels it
The way I want him to.

He loves me.
I know that.
And I feel that.

Therefore—
Love, in this exquisite, quaint,
Yet transparent personification,
Comes once in a lifetime.

Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Coffee with my younger self: II

I went about my way as I abandoned that little girl and left her to beg for help from others, like I once did. Asking, pleading for love and affection. I cannot go back to her. I know I’ve already left her behind. I want her to sleep in peace, to dream beautiful dreams that make her happy. I cannot dream like that, mine are either hollow or nightmares.  She doesn’t deserve to see that. She doesn’t deserve to know. She will find kindness from strangers who take her home. She will eat warm meals, sleep with a full belly, and close her eyes with wonder. I, on the other hand, can barely digest food or I eat like a pig and I dread going to bed. She doesn’t deserve to witness that. Her face is so full of joy, hope, and love. Mine is tired, hollow, and worn. She has to live the life she always dreamed of: smiling, hoping.  I can’t even go one hour without a cigarette. After all the pain I caused her today, I know she’ll still forgive me. She might hate me for an hour or two, but she’...
Post a Comment
Read more

I Awoke from Morpheus

you glowed and bejeweled the moonflowers, poison filled with illusory hope and serenity. and we both embraced, and we both strangled each other. we burn— oh, we burn so brightly, dear one. and yet, we turned too bright, and thus, we cascade down. no valley of flowers, no iridescent moonlight. no light, no hope— we burned into ashes. there goes my Morpheus, and so shall I cease to be. maybe in another life, we could have been. yes, we could have been. once, the light of my life, now becoming no more than a mere shadow that existed yesterday. there you go, like a dandelion, twirling away like a false prophet to one’s dreams and wishes. if only you had known how fickle words could have been, as people grow— and outgrow them. and yet, we live on, tragically, with beauty and grace.
Post a Comment
Read more

Champagne Flames and Crimson Roses

Lana Del Rey- Young and Beautiful Heavenly Father, if the road of life leads to heaven, let my lover pass through his beauty outshines this wicked world. His beauty glows, oh, it glows, like the last champagne light at the end of the party. His beauty endures as the world grows colder. And, Lord, let him be your angel, even if I am left to burn. His wings shadow the threshold of infinity. The smallest atoms of his being spill into me like holy wine, filling my soul with a redemption I will never deserve. His heart a crimson rose, opening, bleeding, a bloom that brings me to weeping. His hands, strong as steel, never rusting, yet they could shatter me like glass. And his kiss, oh Lord, his kiss burns my soul with the slow sweetness of damnation, as though my fate were already sealed in the fire that waits below. Such heavenly beauty drags me to the filthiest sins. His love, unending, makes me ache with unworthiness. like a moth unraveling in the flame, knowing I will perish, yet choosin...
Post a Comment
Read more