Love

Love is pain and pain is love. Love is heart ache, love is tears, love is compassion, love is passion. Love is a voice, it’s a picture of wrinkles. Agony is the reformed shape of love. You love as in die for.

Love is the glimpse of glitter shinning though your eyes. Love in the light possessing your body every time love walks in. Love is the glare that makes you smile. Love is a space, a dimension. Love is a phase, love is a legend. Love is not a shape, nor does it have a color. Love has no country, no origin. Love is a birth, love is process…

Love in the feeling that makes you fly. Love is the tears that make you cry, love is the hand you hold, the years you spend, the yes’s you say and no’s you wish you had.

Love is foolish, love is strange, love is scary, love is mysterious. Love is freedom, love is captive. Love is young, love is old, love is middle aged, love is a crisis, love is a being apart of me that can never reside else where.

Love is a heart beat, love is the moon. Love is the sun, love is light over the waves of waters spreading warmth through miles of oceans.

Love is cold, love is pain, love is death, love is lost, love is far, and sometimes near. Love is a question, and maybe an answer.

Love begins with a smile, grows with a kiss, and ends with a teardrop.

The question of why.

Why does greatness die young, evil dies old.

Why does good hurt, and bad laugh.

Why do dreamers want it all, yet get nothing. Slacker get everything, yet wanting nothing.

Why does love leave when love is a peak of selfless passion.

Why does family hate you when you love them most.

Why are you abandoned at the door when your bleeding?

There are many more questions cruising through memories of a history book lost in the dust of time.

Why do the tear drops of the green eyes go unnoticed by the wavers of the hazel cold lover, gone with the wind of eternity. Never to come back, her eyes froze in time, soul released from ceasur.  Telling the tale of dripping ache.

N.A.