I have been afraid to write of love lately. It takes away too much out of me.
Love is the essence of living. And there are days, which these days are most days when I feel it hurts too much to speak of love with careless abandon. I did so once. Perhaps even dared to do it twice. Once all was said done, I was left with a mere shell of my words.
If I dab my pen too much into love’s ink, it hurts. It hurts when I speak of what I had. It hurts when I speak of what I don’t have. It hurts to look at my empty hands and I realize even my wishes have slipped through my fingers.
© Romancing Life | 2017
Oh, it’s been a long and lonely ride. Stumbling through this life, you’ve made a pit stop every time someone has offered to be kind. To love the rotten parts of you, just enough to keep you alive. In your desperation, you let them, knowing all too well, with every encounter your heart was crying. A little more each time. Eventually, the tears turning into oceans, and the waves pulling you towards the Eastern shores, where I reside. For your welcome, even the silver orb shines, illuminating the night sky. And, baby if the brightest beacon is not enough to guide you home, I’ll hang lanterns on the moon.
© Romancing Life (2017)