Disconnected the more we’re connected
Our children are affected and feeling neglected
While our rights to privacy are no longer respected
An idea our ancestors never projected
The transgressions of technological progression
An obsession creating social oppression
A Millennial’s iDol, a prized possession

Love smells like his denim jacket, all warm and tinged with his cologne and his musk. Love smells like toasted pancakes on a drowsy Sunday. Love smells like burned wood in the fireplace on a cold winter day.

Love tastes like licking the ice cream dripping down your fingers. Love tastes like the spurt of gooey chocolate on the first bite, all sweet, dark and delicious. Love tastes like hot coffee on a monday morning, bright and awakening, getting you ready for the first day.

Love feels like his hand squeezing yours when you’re unaware. Love feels like his mouth fitting perfectly in yours. Love feels like the surprise of seeing him waiting up for you when you come home late.

Love sounds like his slow beating pulse when your head is on his chest at three a.m. Love sounds like him murmuring ‘i love yous’ when he thinks you’re asleep. Love sounds like the buzz of the T.V on low when you both accidentally fell asleep talking.

Love looks when the morning light is flooding into your room and the first thing you see is the light bathing his face in this godly mustard glow. Love looks like skin. Skin up close. Where you can see every freckle, pore, every imperfection and every flaw. And ****, does it takes your breath away.

Love isn't blind,
blind are those,
who never loved.

I still smile
when I think of
lying beside you
Sheets
wrapped around our feet
My hair
a mess
your hand
up my shirt
Your lips
against mine

I still cry
When I think of
what came after
climbing
out of your bed
in the wee hours
of the morning

I still laugh
when I think
about you chasing me
around the house
no socks on our feet
no worries to be had

I still get angry
when I think
about her
texting you
and you
pretending
you didn't know her

I still
feel for you
all the things I
felt back then

Do you
feel them
for me
too?

I fall apart everyday
wish you could feel
what I felt
but I know you too well

If "I love you" was a promise
you couldn’t keep it
just be honest
I’ve heard it before
you don’t love me anymore

Hands getting cold
your love for me has gotten old
tell me
was I made from a broken mold?

Your words, I still hear
your lips, I still feel
against my ear
only you’ve disappeared

If "I love you" was a promise
you couldn’t keep it
just be honest
I’ve heard it before
you don’t love me anymore

Love
What is love?

Is it the way
A mother kisses
Her child?

Is it the way
A father plays
Ball with his son?

Is it the way
A man makes
Love to his wife?

Is it the way
two teenagers
Hold hands as they
Walk down the hall?

Or

Is it they way
Parents cry when
Their son says “I’m gay”?

Is it the way
Friends turn away
When they hear
I want to be a guy someday”?

Is it the way
Teens **** themselves
At the thought of being alone?

Is it the way
Kids wait by the phone
For their Dad to say
He’s on his way home?

Maybe

Love can’t be defined
Love, is deep within all of us
Sometimes, it can just be hard to find