They are madly in love, but that love seems to drive them to madness.  Time has passed, each moment filled with efforts to make things work, but inevitably, they end up right back where they started, fighting. They love so deeply, opening parts of each other once kept dormant. They were probably never meant to be, deep down she feels like that are not right for each other, and sometimes he begins to think it’s true. Shes mad that he can’t just leave her alone, where is the space she has always pleaded for? He’s mad that the time away from her feels like a piece of him has been torn away, how could you love someone and still yearn for the distance? Her love burns like a fire, needing air to fuel its brightness, yet yearning for space to avoid being suffocated. His love flows like a river, a constant current that needs something to pull against, requiring a connection to stay alive. Each passing moment only draws them closer, their hearts in sync, an invisible thread weaving them together. But this symphony of emotions becomes harder to bear, as if his love is an unstoppable force, and hers an immovable object, each pulling in different directions. Perhaps she’s not ready for this kind of relationship, or maybe he was never meant for one. Yet, the harder she pulls away, the more desperately he holds on. The waves may crash, and the buildings may fall, but beneath the rubble, they stand, planning to rebuild. Their love drives them to the edge, unsure of what comes next. She craves time to breathe, space to settle, while he longs for reassurance, wanting to feel as though he’s not being cast aside.

A little less fuel
For warmth and
Hopeful things

I can't fit
in your
pocket,
that kind
of love
is too
much.
Such a
dreamy
coffin,
when all
I wanted
was
your
touch.

I have watched grief hollow you out.
Your body is no longer illuminated by an open heart.
Since the spiders crept in
the warm, gentle glow has been
smothered
by cobwebs.

I could hear her words,
              faintly..
       like an echo through water.

But I want drowning.

  When I was in the womb
          I swam in darkness..

Now all I see is
            white heavy clouds,
            depriving me of breath...

The last thing I saw was my mother
                        crying,
as my father
        ran with me, then I saw blue..

And knew he'd never let me drown
                          in her arms..

and so, he said to me, “Are you sure this is what you want? Are you sure you want me? Because once I fall in love, there is no turning back. I love hard, and I will be obsessed with you I will smother you”.

    

                                                                                                  please do not smother me; 
                 

                              smothering implies force. 
                        It implies suppression,
                   maybe a hint of aggression, 
              with a dab of oppression 
          and a handful of asphyxiation.
      In which one kills another,
   by with the stifling of breath and emotion.
It is the death of something.

       
          
               Instead engulf me in your love;
          let me be immersed in it.
cradle me.
coddle me. 
shelter me.
                
                         let me breathe,
          
                             
                 so that I can appreciate it
                       and feel it all around me;
                that makes it so much better.
      ever so soft.
      ever so loving. 
      ever so gentle. 

                

           I understand why you want to smother,
I do.
                                  Why you want to cover parts of me
                              that you feel are light-filled.
                          Watering me with muddled emotions and actions
                     that you feel are quite harmless, but understand;
                like flowers overwatered,
             and placed in the shade
        death will become me.
         I too,
    struggle with the feeling to
repress and restrain
                                           
                                         I do 
      
                         

        
                         , but you’re somebody too
                     you’re important.
                Your love is a torrent;
        the best thing you can give along with,  
your time. 
   It’s valuable, 
so you shouldn’t give if it is unwanted 

                          


                                     even to me;
   especially to me
                      

        
                     or at least don’t make it a habit with anyone 
                 you see 
           because you are too precious 
      and too valuable 
   you say I am special,
but you too, are important 
                 

                , but thank you 

                                
         I do,
                           appreciate the gesture and the thought; 
                     I do.
                  I want your love but not like that.
               I really do,
           just not that way.
       Just not by suffocation. 
 I want to be engulfed in it…

                    
there’s a difference,
        I do not want to die… I do not want to suffocate.

Do you hear me
Can you see me
I’m not happy
I’m not free
This love you give is grand
But what comes with is far too harsh
I feel crushed beneath my own body weight
Laying squished while reaching out
You pet my hair and say you love me
All this is worth it apparently
But how am I to love back if I am dead