The self-love buried in her sandy brown eyes Waiting for the wind to settle down To have a clear vision of who she is She's growing a deep rooted tree embedded with self-doubt Only if she knew her tears are watering the tree Strengthening her biggest rivalry
I can hear your voices falling Up the stairs Like shadows from the living room A song stuck in my head That I can only hum.
When I’m older I’ll remember Feeling warm and hearing The music of your laughter Muffled by the door And I won’t know the details But the stories, I’ll remember.
and maybe love is much simpler than we make it out to be. maybe it’s not found in the doing, in the pursuing, in the trying. instead, maybe love is found in the resting place that is presence. maybe love is found in the silence that is a listening ear. maybe love is found in the stillness that is humble acceptance. maybe love is just.. as you are.
I don’t love being wronged but my love still beats strong! I don’t love to exercise but I love being fit and alive! I don’t love sour grapes, but if they’re good for me I’ll take a plate. I don’t love death and Gore, and I surely don’t love war, But I do love a strangers smile, won’t you come and sit a while?