The thing about Love is that it swallows you whole,
rather than taking bits and pieces at a time.
It does not ask permission,
it does not knock and wait for you to answer.

Love does not ask if you are ready,
or come at the right time;
it does not settle for
"maybe," or "almost."

Love does not rest, or
soften its grip.
It is not patient.

The thing about Love is that it
crashes through you like a wave;
it fills your lungs, breaks your bones and
drowns the cage around your heart.

Love destroys and rebuilds at once,
and I'm not sure whether to smile
or ache.