I don’t want it
What is love?
Is it the reason ‘Mom’ forgives ‘Dad’, even though he is wrong? He comes late every night, commiting crimes he forced me to keep secret, with a cheap gift in his hand. They fight and forgive, but they say it’s all in the name of love.
Is it the reason he threatened my career? Kicked me out when all I wanted was to chase my dreams. I told myself I didn’t need their help and survived on my own. I thought I had escaped. But he came back, took my money all in the name of love.
Is it the reason he threatened my cat, the only living being that I cherish? He took everything, just so I can be 'successful'. He threatened everything and everyone I had, all in the name of love.
If this is love, then I don’t want it.
When I hear the word "love," I see his face. Soft but masculine. His red hair framing his perfect cheeks. I see his lips, and I can feel them against my own. I see his cute little dimples. The ones I poke when he's trying to hide them. I see his nose. He always says it's too big, but I think it's perfect. I see his eyes, which are hard to pin down. Some days they're as blue as the ocean. Other days, they're green like the grass. But most days, they're some comination of blue and green. A perfect balance. I see all the emotion in those eyes. They always give him away.
When I hear the word "love," I smell the scent of his cologne. When I bury my face in his chest, I can smell it the best. I smell the cookies we baked on Christmas Eve. I smell the pine trees in the park we always go to for walks. I smell the cinamon car freshener he keeps between the seats of his car. I smell the candle in his room.
When I hear the word "love," I taste his mouth on mine. I taste the fried chicken we ate on our first date. I taste the mac n cheese we made when it was our first time cooking together. I taste the bread rolls I smuggled out of the prom you took me to. I taste the lasagna we ate for our six month anniversary.
When I hear the word "love," I hear the music from that prom. I hear the song we danced to for the first time. I hear him teach me how to hold a putter at minigolf. I hear his laugh when I miss the hole ten times. I hear the words to the movie we were at when he kissed me. I hear the barks of his dog the first time I went to his house. I hear him telling me for the first time that he loves me on skype. I hear the sound of him ending the skype call, only to have me call him right back. I hear myself saying over and over, "you love me?" and him answering every time with, "yes babygirl, I love you!" I hear myself saying for the first time, "I love you too!" after a couple minutes. I hear the laughter that accompanies us being together. I hear his breathing as we take naps together.
When I hear the word "love," I feel his fingers latching onto mine for the first time, unsure at first, but growing with confidence. I feel his strong arms wrapped around me. I feel the butterflies I felt for the first three months of our relationship. I feel his lips against mine. I feel my head on his chest that rises and falls with every breath as we cuddle on the couch.
When I hear the word "love," I feel him. My boyfriend, my best friend, my confidant, my whole world. I feel the love we have for eachother that somehow grows more and more every day.
The dagger presses underneath my ribs, but I won't let you see a drop. You know what you did, and you don't deserve the satisfaction of seeing me bleed. You aren't allowed to know that side of me. You can't get past this wall anymore. I should have never let you use my hair to climb them. I should've cut you off by the root, shear the relationship before it began. Lesson learned.
Paid in Full
"Wait," you say, while I started to pull down your shorts, "I want to touch you first."
your lips pressed between mine and hips to hips as your fingers tips trace my collar bone,
you travel from shoulder to shoulder and down admist seas,
I never understood these body parts could feel so sensual,
I didn't understand sex was the price of a mans love not something to be enjoyed but paid in full,
never knew that sex could feel like fire pressed between lips and hips,
or kisses could feel like breath,
I didn't know that sex wasn't a sign of love,
love is anything and everthing
love is everywhere and seen no where
love can sacrife for you
love can forgive for you
love can hold you and be silent
love can give you things that matter
love can wipe your pain like a breeze that hug you with its mighty hands
love is something that follows
like a shadow to the graveyard
love is like a rainbow
so many colours yet so beautiful
truly love is divine
Love Can Be Many Things
When I think of love I think of colors. When I hear the word love, I see colors. That's because love comes in many colors. And love can be described as a color. Love can be intense, happy, disappointing, and sad. Love can create life and love can kill.
"So Love Is A Many Splendid Thing." You can say that or know that. Love can be defined in many ways its up to you. On how you give it, recieve it, and internalize it. One thing I do know for sure is:That the right kind of love will make your soul happy and your life will be blessed. The wrong kind of love you'll be unhappy. It will feel like forever, but you can change the scenario, do what makes you happy, and loving yourself is always a good place to start. "Don't Worry Be Happy In Love With YourSelf." it will make your soul smile and your heart HAPPY. I'm working on that.
What is love?
Some people would explain love as puppy kisses or this constant feeling of pure happiness, but I don't believe them. I cannot help but think that love is dangerous. Love can hurt you in so many ways. For instance, you may give your heart to someone who you believed to be as pure but then, they turned out to be corupt, but the thing is, that no matter how hard you try to get it back, your heart still belongs to them.
To me, love is this constant fear that you have your life in the hands of someone who has wished you dead for so long and you know it there is an unfortunate outcome just waiting. The thing is though, that you never know when they are just going to end it, so the suspense drones on and on and on and every moment of the day you are just wondering, Will this be my last?
My heart aches at any mention of his name, any fraction of a second that I see his face because I know that I will never be the same. It pains me to say that even after years, any reminder of him just rips me in two in that very spot where i stand and there is nothing anyone can do to help me. No matter how hard they try, I will never be the same daughter, the same neice, the same sister, or friend, or classmate that I was before I looked into those ice blue eyes.
But love can also be a good thing, when it comes to love, it is one of the most unpredictable forces in the world. Maybe love is like puppy kisses or the feeling of pure happiness, but I guess I will never feel that kind of love for my heart is in the most dangerous of hands. What is love to me? Now I know, love is pain...