Love is when you
watch a horror movie
with your brother
and you hate them,
but he asked you,
and you're hoping
you'll hold hands
like you did when
you were younger.
Love is when you
spend Sunday at the market,
with your mom
without her asking
because you said no
too many times when you were fifteen
but now you wish she'd ask again.
And love is other things too.
Like when you share a blanket
because there is only one,
and you don't mention that
your feet stick out,
because you're hoping he is warm.
And love is when you smile
though you're scared.
So that they feel brave.
Because you can't change the dark of night.
And love is when
Your arm falls asleep
And you want to move
But you don't because
They are sleeping on your shoulder.
Love is being steady
when you want to fall apart.
And love is sacrifice,
without ever asking why.