When Poets speak of love it was only ever a word
one uttered so aimlessly about as if it carried no weight
as if it didn’t weigh down on my chest like a mountain whenever I utter your name
as if it didn’t cause my heart to race inside my ribcage
like racehorses blinded by jockeys
Love isn’t something that could even be put into words
just reactions
like how your love makes me do incredibly stupid things
and never once give thought to the consequences
how your hand leaves burning trails wherever they land
How every fiber of my natural being aches for your presence
how you permeate all of my dreams
both day
and night
To express how much you mean to me
within the confines of this paper castle
with my ink pen as a sword
and my voice a shield
to break down the brick tower around your heart
left by past lovers who have never deserved
is impossible
How does one quantitate love
in miles
in inches
in time
I could only imagine it being measured
in the amount of times the thought of you
crosses my mind
in the lengths I would go
to keep you from harm
in the hushed promises I make myself to you
Love is when you hug me so tight
our limbs meld together in an inseparable embrace
when a simple text saying
‘be safe. Love you’
jump-starts flames in my heart
like you’re a veteran mechanic
and im a rusted 1961 corvette
I once thought love was just a word
that only poets
and heartbroken artists
truly understood
until I realized it’s so much more than that