I’ve never believed that love is finite.
I’ve always thought that love
is a renewable resource.
Recyclable.
That as long as you are willing
to give out love,
you will receive enough love in return,
to refill yourself with.
But the problem with that was obvious,
some people simply do not give.

So I changed my theory.
Love is infinite.
It grows like trees inside us,
blooms and expands
like every breath is the first.
It plants seeds in our veins
and grow gardens in our chests,
and no matter how many times
that garden is mowed over,
cut down,
ruined,
there will always be one seed.

And it will regrow.