You gave me a giving tree
ironic, a little.
I gave you a poem.
ironic, a lot. there's so many about you that
you have never read.
You seemed to know exactly what I needed
In order to stay in love with you, I
needed to know why,
and that's why.
He said it's impossible to love without understanding;
we are lonely creatures who cannot
dream each others' dreams.
How can we love?
we give.
we give until it hurts and then some
until we gave it all away without even understanding
WHY we are in love, or
WHY we even started giving.
Is that love? is it love if we don't
understand
what we're even getting into?
How could someone like you fall for a
girl(?)
who dedicates her life to figuring out why she's
beautifully in love with you
all she knows is to live, she has to give
and she doesn't even know if that's true.