Sometimes the simplest words speak louder,
And the flustered actions become clustered
And boxed into things we don’t understand.
The sky still bellows your name as I walk,
And I try to peel back its layers in hope
But I can’t.
There are times I try to lick the sky to
Seal the envelope, to drop you in the post,
To send you miles away to only,
Then, want you to
But I can’t.
I try to lift my fingers to rummage
Through the ‘paradise’ that sleeps above me,
to wake some sort of potion, for the inner demon
but it only
So I can’t.
White, holy, a virginal frame, like a dove
Spreading its wings, etching its spirit into the sky.
A white rose, against the
backdrop of the darkness.
Red apples glistening, hanging
On the tree in the Garden of Eden.
What makes us love so uncontrollably?
Is it the need to feel satisfied, or is it the need to belong?
Love softens the heart. It pumps the blood red warmth of feeling content through the body. It keeps the blood flowing in the veins. It keeps everything in check.
So do we really need to love? As humans are we conditioned to love, if so, why?
These are the questions that linger in the average person’s mind but are stifled by the everyday tasks that seem a burden to us; day in, day out.
Loving only makes us weak. So people say. But, does it not make us strong to emotionally and physically attach ourselves to another and prepared to risk everything for the longevity of the relations?
Is it weak to love, or is it weak to give up on the idea because you deem it doesn’t exist?