I felt everything and nothing all at once and thought this is it, hope, lots of hope.

I bet this is what a mother feels like when she holds her new baby born for the first time, or a struggling person leaving the doors of a rehab behind forever, or every kid seeing a rainbow after long rainy days

But this is happiness, not love
I've felt lots of happiness
Not a lot of love

Whispers in my head repeating what they said: There's nothing wrong with you, it's not your fault and you don't deserve this.
This is not what they call love.

I've had my definitions of love, for a movie or a song. For a mother or a sibling.
But this is not what they call love.

I'm breaking my brick wall and building it all over again but I'll make sure I'm doing it all by myself with no love's help

I'll add colors to my own skies
Black is not my color

I'll learn music and poetry
And plant new trees

This time, at least for once
I'll be there for me

Love has not yet proven its existence