Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Danny Pruteanu Sep 2016
My whole life I've been told what love is. And what it means. I've been told that love hurts. That love will ******* up. I've been told that love will change you, and tear you apart. I've been told that love isn't possible if you're too far apart. I've been told many things about love. But it took me 22 to figure out what love was. Is. I've fallen so deeply, that I've rewritten the word love. Sometimes it's just a kiss, or even a hug. Or each others faces, on a pair of coffee mugs. It's when your day has been hell, and you can't help but smile, when thinking of how you fell. It's remembering every small memory, and every exotic smell. It's coming home everyday, with a story to tell. It's making up, and falling deeper, no matter how loud you yell. Love is the taking all those small moments in your mind, and repeatedly hitting rewind. Love is rare. It's one of a kind. It's filtering all the negative, and throwing it behind. Forgetting the depth of the past, and making the present last. It's not just a feeling. It's not just in your head. It's something so strong, we sometimes feel it for the dead. And waking up so alive, with you next to me, on my bed. Many see it with a certain color. Sometimes white, and mostly red. But I see no colors, and I forget all the others. It's not the love I have for my sisters. Or even my brothers. I don't feel it for my father. Not even my mother. I feel it for one. She's my moon, my stars, and even my sun. If I'm next to her, there is no distance I wouldn't run. She's the definition of caring, and the epitome of fun. I love her. Like a marksman loves his gun. Like a jokester his pun. Like a criminal running, and being hit with stun. It just happened. Out of nowhere. And oh so fast. This may be un organized, and random as hell. You are the love I felt first. And you will surely be my last. Your name rings in my head all day, kinda like a bell. I love you baby, and I don't care who you tell.
It's not really a poem, just the thoughts I had during a moment that passed
Danny Pruteanu Nov 2013
Autum leaves fall, as warmth is scarce.
New feelings, from forgotten memories.
Of the last time fall was called.
Every year, the leaves come down.
They find new life, on the ground.
It happens every year, without a sound.
The cycle goes on, but for how long?
An irreversible cycle. But not forever.
Cycles never end, so forever is wrong.
What is forever?
Forever is not so long,
For she said forever, but now she's long gone.
So to say forever, would be wrong.

— The End —