Fond of love? Is it not?

With whom do I speak about?

Is it the heart?

A mere transaction between the heart and the love that it gives

Takes

Moves and listens to each

And every

Single

Day.

I feel…

Yet there is no presenter.

No one to share,

No one to give.

No supplier, provider. There is a house,

Yet it is no home. No place to reside.

What I feel is an experience worth the ride. I bought plane tickets this time.

A one way ticket to wherever it can take me.

Prescribe me the medication, the antidote.

Respond to my prayers with a challenge, rather than a definition.

Give me the reason I long for, simply

Because I ask for it.

Love.

Give it to me.

Feed it to me,

Make it melt in my mouth, at the tip of my tongue.

Let it linger,

Whisper my name,

Romance at the calm of my voice.

Feel my words against yours.

Trial my heart.

Adore.

Bestow upon her the

True

Meaning

Of                  

Love.

The distinction between a kiss,

And a hug.

The conceptual, intangible evidence that she is looking for.

Hurt?

Pain?

No more.

What I feel is the reaction to love.

There can only be pain

Where there is a heart.

This can go on for as long as it can be taken.

I have been beat up by love,

Yet I refuse for it to take advantage.

It will challenge me indefinitely, until I learn what it dares not bring forth at ease.

Afraid, withdrawn. Confused,

Wishing for a moment. My heart is weak.

Tired of the constant reciprocation of negative energy feeding at her.

Eating her alive. Heart.

Love,

Striking her.

Take it. Take it.

Not for an eternity, rather,

For a moment.

Stand up and fight for it.

A feeling deep inside waiting to let go. Please,

Take it.

I dare not wish to fight another day. She says. She says

She loves him.

She says that she wants to be with him.

Another heart to hold,

Another heart to handle.

Another heart to feel, and be loved by.

A heart scorned by the misinterpretation of the mind however. An emotion that remains,

Sitting

As if there was no other place.

Without love I do not seek to be found. With it,

I am everything. I am a journey with no end,

No signs telling me where to go, what to do, who to love and who to be without. Love.

Shut up and take it.

Barr up the doors! Continue to hide in safety. Create your own world,

Within the lies you constantly tell yourself. Day to day

You sit and embrace your own heart,

Your own hourglass.

In hope of one day someone else loving you the way that love does.

The word is simply a word.

The actions are actions,

And the pain is pain.

The feeling is feeling,

The emotion is emotion.

What is love is love,

What gives what receives are what we call motivation.

Fond of love I am.

It is not pain that I speak of. It is the heart.

Worthy of any and every transaction between itself and love and I live in it

Each

And

Every

Single

Day.