Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ils Apr 2020
You may think that I’m going to be talking about the word and feeling “love”. I may or may not be. It really depends on you, the reader, to determine what this “love” is.

Love ******* hurts. Love is time consuming. Love is demanding. Love will require you to swim the depths of the ocean and cross the largest of deserts. Love will not make it easy. Love is the thing you fear the most. Be it the monster under your bed with the red beady eyes and the horribly yellow teeth, or the 1,000 foot drop from the sky, plummeting downwards as you feel your stomach drop. Love will leave you bleeding dry from the things you do just for love. Love will not even realize that you are doing those things for love.

But love will repay you. In ways you won’t understand. Love will be for you during the worst times. Love will listen to you and encourage you to be your best self. Love does not even realize that love is doing these things for you, love is just doing them.

Love will not realize the effect on you.

For me, it has always been me crossing the deserts, swimming the oceans, bleeding dry just to please love. When will it be love’s turn? Maybe today, tomorrow, or a time that I’m no longer here.

I think love has been repaying me every since I started loving love. Maybe love has a different way of expressing love. Maybe the love that love gives is sweet, pure, and just. Maybe I just need to open my eyes to see that love will not cross a desert for me because love is standing right there beside me. Love will not bleed me dry, for love is the one rushing though my veins. Love is not the monster, love is the light. Love is not the fear of the fall, love is the trust fall, knowing you’ll fall right back into love. Love does not realize what I do for love because love is too busy loving me.

And now, I am grateful enough to see it.
Francesca Rose May 2020
Oh, sweetheart.
You're every star in the sky.
You remind me of a snowdrop encased in dark, cracked resin. Maybe frozen into the ice, then, deep beneath where the sun ever reached. The pride of the leviathan of the deep.
God, you're breathtaking.
Your eyes convey a thousand wishes, hope still glinting deep in there. You cultivate it like a small ember, a glowing shard of coal in the rain. It never goes out, not all the way. You can always blow it back to life.
You absolutely astound me.
Your bravery, your courage, your presence, it envelops me like the rumble of a thunderstorm deep within my chest. Your existence shines so bright it could light a path through Victorian London smog, your machinations a delightful enigma.
I cannot imagine not knowing you now.
Alabaster and deep azure, soot and iridescent verdant. I could get lost in your soul. Gazing into your mind feels like ****** of a secret, absolute ******. You make my blood boil. My veins are blue, bluest blue, thinking about you.
You're every book on the shelf.
You're every smile from a stranger.
You're every star in the sky.
Oh, sweetheart.
Francesca Rose May 2020
carefully reaching for your hand
it's the first day I've seen you in person.

I've known you for long enough
that I'm surprised when you grab my hand back.

when I look into your eyes, I see fear, and trepidation, and sadness, but also hope and happiness and love.

I will do everything I can
to keep holding your hand.

you hold mine so gently
so carefully. so kindly.
Nely Oct 2019
You're scared. Something about me arouses the forgotten ashes. The ones that have been spread far and wide in the back of your mind. I can tell that your involvement with me lights up parts of your brain that sends an SOS signal to your entire core. There's something within me that doesn't allow you to function how you'd like too. I'm skipping turnstiles and playing musical chairs in your brain, lighting up familiar triggers you can't quite figure. That's why you act like a relucilant adolescent, who only knows complications. You're not really complicated, you're stubborn. That's why your kisses are limited. Your touch is always as distant as possible. Reluctant at times. There's parts of me you're too afraid to touch, to maraud. Your lack of receptiveness completely turns me off. Makes me want to runaway without a say. Yet I know it'd be far more better if I played with fire and ignited a fire from your cupid's bow to your toes. Cease a fire across your body that you cannot calm. A fire that would consume your entirety. Devour your being. One that sparks your soul. & with my bare hands seed a soil that's been in need of loving. I have a fire match ready for you, hand delivered by a cherub. Let us consumate a taboo, you say when. Quickly I'll slide my thumb down the side of your lip, with my index finger adjacent to your top lip, cupping my fingers in, I'll pour in you the sweetest gasoline. Within you I'll ignite the parts you've neglected so much. Within you, they'll be a big bang, it'll be where our new love began.
Arke May 2018
Your eyes, golden brown
Soft, delicate fingers brushing a single curl
Against my cold face
"body heat helps frostbite,"
You tell me
And you lick your lips knowing
I am unconditionally doomed
In our paracosm you would be my wife
Bound by our losses and found by each other
In the unlit room, you're mine for just the hour
And maybe that's enough.
Kriti Gupta Oct 2017
I'm chasing my dream
You're chasing yours
So why do we fall
through this damaged door?
You sing songs
about broken glass
You're still bitter
but my thirst never ends
You still drape yourself
like you never left
Elliott Jul 2017
******* slowly
Time close
to me,
hanging on
my side,
the side I kept
my tattoo.
                                    Buttoning quickly
                                       Tying my shoes,
                                              laced in fear
                                   A few hours
                                      away from thinking
                                         about who I love

              (My own personal bomb),

                                                                                    ...thinking of you.
Ginelle Feb 2017
the world around me spins,
it's always so blurry;

but you, you're always crystal clear
i'm so happy you're alive.
Gabriel burnS Jan 2017
There is no savior
for all;
there's even no
individual salvation

You know the cost
of a call,
but that of

You can hear,
that I know,
but can you listen?
And when you talk
is it the things
you say
or is it in the way...
What is absent,
is it missing?
Next page