Love doesn't aim to control or curb or force...rather it encourages, supports and persuades..if it does the former...then it isn't and cannot be love.

Sometimes
before you arrive
I imagine the drive
the dusty winds
roads blown sand blind
the breath hot desert
red upon your back
the drown of dripping sweat
a mirage, a swimming lake
an oasis, of mind escape
how you travel as saguaro fields fly by.

It felt like having my chest cut open
over and over again
and the stinging pain just won't go away
it leaves me begging on my knees
for mercy and sympathy
and all I get are deeper cuts
and bigger pains.

It feels like having my heart ripped and shattered
crushed and broken
burnt and destroyed  
and it feels like everyone is watching
as I'm being smothered.

maybe love is to watch a thousand winters pass, and still stand by his side because you know he's made of spring