I read most of my poems again
to see what I tend to avoid.
Well, what I am about to say
really isn't a surprise to me.
I don't think I have ever written about Love
in a happy sense.
Love.
What even is love anyway?
There are many different types of love.
But why do most of my poems that deal with love
end in tragedy?
Is it because I do not believe in love?
But it can't be
because I do believe in love.
The familial kind,
the friendship kind,
those are the types of love that I have experienced.
I know what it is like to ¨like¨ someone
I have had many crushes,
but I couldn't tell you what it is like
to love someone
in that way.

So to me that type of love
is a tragedy waiting to happen.
I like to think
that I am better off alone.

But is being lonely truly worth it?
I'm not too sure anymore.

*To be continued...