i guess that lately all i can write about is love
and how could i not when the feeling is simply overwhelming;
it swallows me up into its deep clear seas of adoration
and i have never learned how to swim.
i do not write about the love they write books about,
i write about the love that makes up poems
because love that is so encompassing and destructive
is something that is best expressed in choppy words and stanzas.
it is not something you can write a novel on
and if you could, nobody would read it anyway.
it is not something you can dress in pretty words
and send out for others to read in front of a fireplace.
the love i write about lately is the one that makes you heart hurt,
the one that makes you wish you were better, and makes you realise you're not,
the love that makes you hate other people because you know they are better than you
- better for him, they can make him smile -
it is the kind of love that makes you scream your feelings out into your pillow at 2 am
and that makes you sink instead of fly.
the kind that people read when they feel just the same,
the kind they hide under their blankets because they don't want
their friends to know that despite them saying that they're beautiful,
they know they're not, not to that one person that is, to them,
the single most beautiful thing.
lately, all i seem to do is write about this love
because lately, it seems to be all that i can feel,
with all that comes with it to bite at my soul with its brilliant sharp teeth -
lately, all i seem to do is think about him,
and i drown in the kind of love they write poems about.
it is not a happy love, not now and i doubt it ever will be
and maybe one day i will be able to look at him without blushing and feeling longing tug at my heart,
maybe one day i will learn ow to swim and not fall in love this easily,
maybe one day i will be able to write a novel about kids playing on the streets
instead of a poem about me wanting to die;
but right now, all i can seem to do is hate myself a little bit
and love him a little bit more every day.
but yes - maybe, one day, i can write about being in love with someone,
and how it feels to be loved back
not him, i know we aren't meant to be,
but maybe someone who, like me, dives before they've tested waters.