the frost made a pretty frosting glaze over the stiff grass
the wind nipped at my warm face and gathered at where my nose met the breeze
my nostrils inhaled the icy air particles
its winter now

she shined so bright
that he was surprised
he couldn’t taste the stars
dancing on her skin.
surprised he couldn’t smell
the wood burning
and hear the fire crackling.
but most of all
he was surprised
she didn’t know
that she was more spectacular
than the skies on the fourth of july.

Some people
bask in the sunshine,
soak up the rays
within their skin
and feel the warmth
swimming through their veins.
Others find happiness
in the rain.
Water droplets falling around them,
hand outstretched
into the storm,
feeling the rain hitting bare skin.

Some people
find sadness
in the rain,
umbrellas facing the cloudy sky,
rain boots splashing
in depthless puddles.
Others find sorrow
within the sun rays,
restless hands waving fans
in sweaty faces.

You can’t appreciate the sunshine
if you have never experienced the storm,
they say.

I think those who are in love on this era is cursed,
not that their love is delusional nor artificial
But because their manisfestation of love is perceived
by how society visualizes and defines it

We think someone genuinely love us because
they upload hundreds of photos of us
We think someone sincerely love us because
they write essay competition-worthy captions
We think someone truly love us because
they praise us at all of our selfie posts

To me, love is listening to a music
and suddenly it reminds you of them
To me, love is reading a good book
and suddenly wants them to read it as well
To me, love is when winter comes and all you ever think is whether they wear their warm clothes
To me, love is when the night comes and all you think of is how his day was

Well, then again, Chbosky once said that
"we accept the love we think we deserve"
And maybe we don't get to choose the way we love
or the way we want to be loved
Simply because we think it's the kind of love
that deserves us