Apr 2017
10.09 am
I used to wonder why everyone wrote about love
in novels and poems,
like it was a disposable glove
but then I realised one day
that we write about what we don't understand,
in the hope of understanding it
for love cannot be defined
or explained
or described.
It can only be a feeling, with the sole purpose of proving we're alive.
I used to wonder why everyone wrote about love
in novels and poems,
like it was a disposable glove
but then I realised one day
that we write about what we don't understand,
in the hope of understanding it
for love cannot be defined
or explained
or described.
It can only be a feeling, with the sole purpose of proving we're alive.
Logging back in after a few years and reading old drafts such as this give me flashbacks of late nights writing in the dark, proving to myself that there was more to me than just feeling numb. Now I realise that I was far more.
