i promise you it isn't just a teenage love.

you'll be endlessly told these
stinging words,
by people who have never known,
let alone felt anything like you have.
don't believe their clouded pessimism
they are frosting your eyes with.

listen with the pulsing.
listen to your chest.
hear those beats inside of you?
feel the warmth and heat rushing through those
veins of yours.

listen.

trust your instinct,
your throbbing heart sings for them.
through every separation,
you'll feel the pull back to their
energy...
soul...
their living, breathing, being.

the nails people will hammer into you,
thud hard into your skin with the words
of hopelessness.
pry those rusty nails from your skin,
and push them through your
feet.
grounding your inclination
towards the feeling of longing.

they will stain your mind like drops
of spilled ink.
not watered down,
but pigmented,
overpowering deep smudges of emotion.

once you know you know.
don't doubt the feeling.
you know.
trust that.