Love. It's raw and it's unforgiving and it's brutally consuming. It creeps up on you like a thief in the night and steals away all that you believed you had protected. It's dangerous and it's heavy with risk. And still - it is the most precious and most sought-after gift. It's a desire that is rooted in our bones. Love is pain that you choose to succumb to. Love is seeing the darkest corners of someone's soul and refusing to quit. It means treading water that is deep and destructive but finding a way to keep your head above the current. Love is sacrifice. It does not surrender, it does not falter. It is the loudest hope. Listen to it.

My words are bland compared to yours
And that scalds me
like fresh coffee on open skin

You're no cliché though
despite your skinny jeans
and catalogue fashion taste

I listen to your words like a
gentle tinkling of a piano tune
that erupts into a Bach symphony.

The heavy weight of your words
crush me. I fight for breath
and recently I've realised
I'm the only one not strong enough
to hold them up.

So at night I realise
the sky doesn't shine for me.
It shines for boys with a mind
way beyond his time,
For boys whose heart
leaks through the ink
of his pen like
an embedded vein.

Every night I realise my insignificance,
and the death of my poetry
whilst yours
beats strongly;
eternally.

So I'm sorry I write things because I only feel like it, okay?
But not everyone can explode
into a smattering
of stars
and
flames;

Like you do.