Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 10
Love isn’t a muscle. It doesn’t grow weaker when it isn’t used, nor does it decay when you haven't moved it for some time.

No, love is like breathing. It’s involuntary, it's natural. It's like when you were drowning, with saltwater in your lungs and the darkness consuming your vision — but the moment you hit the surface, you’ll breathe it all in, your body responding before you can even think. You’ll pull all the oxygen into your system for all you’re worth, until flowers have begun to bloom in your lungs again — and you’ll be surrounded by love.

And then, love won’t be so distant or difficult anymore. It comes as naturally as can be, and when it does, you'll know what to do.
from: oct 2019
Written by
ame  17/F/PH
Please log in to view and add comments on poems