Love is not a desire to contain
Or possess.
Love is a desire to set free.
To help someone see themselves
The way you see them.
To see someone become
The truest representation
Of themselves.
To want happiness and contentment for them.
Love in its truest, rawest, and most beautiful form
Desires these things
With no regard for self.

The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.

Gnarled heart
growing apart
from all I hold dear.
Branches to ribs, oh spears.
I am overgrown
yet never let alone,
twigs and leaves all split my bones.
Outside, looks so trim
but I cannot let him in.
Twisted beyond what is grim.
Forest forever,
wish a man luck on his endeavor
to cleave a gnarled heart down.

I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.

My old selfish way
    I willingly discard
    to wake unto a bright new day
    the past totally I disregard.