Tell me about love-
Love is powerful
Love- it is Her
She is love
I call her: Mother.
From the moment she knew she was expecting a baby on the way
Even before laying her eyes on me
Her heart filled with love
Love for her little one
And when I arrived, she carried on showing love through her actions
Of total care, absolute guarding, sharing funny riddles and giving pearls of wisdom.
She makes me believe in love
Reminding me that love gives one strength to keep on going not only for ourselves, but also for those who love us, too.
Love, if personified, she’d be love
Pouring out her heart & soul to many who she loves
So blessed to have a Super Mom
#L’amour (c) 7th March, 2021.
i tripped and i fell
always the clumsy one, me.
i tripped and i fell
right into you.
like some cheesy romance flick
i sat next to you on the bus,
and i discovered what it was like
to have a crush so intense
that it threatened to destroy you.
i'd had crushes before.
but none like this.
loving her gave me a sense of rebellion.
of being true to myself.
of course, it also meant i had to put up
with the carelessly thrown insults
when she was in a bad mood.
she didn't mean them to hurt,
i was just
she ripped me apart,
and still i could not stop
years went by, each year she got
farther from me
and closer to someone else.
and still i could not stop
i didn't know the reasons
behind my want.
i didn't know why
i wanted her to want me
when i didn't even want to be me.
i didn't understand,
and if i'm being honest,
i still don't.
i'm still waiting for someone to love me
the way i loved her.
and i'm hoping that,
when they do,
i won't let them down
the way she let me down
over and over again.
The moment I fell in love with myself, was when he fell out of love with me.
Love is wild. It holds so much power, in so many forms.
It’s sweet and salty
-it can make you feel so empty, or full.
I love love.
Even the bad parts.
Though, it has taken me almost three decades to realise
that I dont need to find love in other places.
All the love I have ever needed was right here, in my own heart.
Thats not to say, that I don’t love in other places too. I do.
But I’ve spent the last ten years of my life,
living for other people;
Loving, for other people.
And now it’s my time to shine.
To do something big, just for me.
I’m not running away anymore.
I’m filling myself to the brim with love and letting it flow out into the open.
Sharing it with all who I meet.
Love belongs to no man or woman,
it belongs to us all,
to love and be loved in return,
is the greatest gift of all,
but who says we cannot love and be loved by ourselves.
I think this will be a poignent part of my begining again,
because, how can you expect anyone else to love you,
if you can't even love yourself.
You are perfect. You are whole.
You are Love.
You. Are. Love.
Finding the Rhythm
New love is like waking up. At first you’re still half alseep. Your love is just a random collection of moments loosely tied together with sunlight, literature and afternoon coffee runs. But after a while, you begin to notice a rhythm. It’s vague and a bit disconcerting, but there’s a definite shape to it. You proclaim your philosophies with both a shyness and a ferocity. You boldly assert-yourself, because you know that if you don’t you’ll become dangerously infatuated with a reflection that is not your own. She’s marvelous. A goddess. And probably straight.
It’s summer. The grass is green. You’re on the edge of adulthood, of certainty. And froliking has become your thing. Full of unclaimed ecstasy, together you tumble through the field outside your highschool. You’re excited for a chance to show off your fifth grade gymnastics skills. It takes a few tries, but you finally manage a sloppy no-handed-cartwheel. She, who wrote a whole novel over the first couple months of quarantine, is jealous. You feel big, almost too big. The sun sets, and slowly, through the dusk, into the dark, she walks you home.
You kiss in November. By then, your friendship is intimate enough that she has penetrated your Covid bubble. You both agree the kiss is a disaster, but you eat oatmeal and dance and love each other anyway.
My love has no limits
I always wonder why people say “I love you to the moon and back”.
That’s a finite distance.
(477,710 miles to be exact).
Why would anyone limit themselves to a fixed number?
That’s not how much I love you.
That doesn’t even come close to how much I love you.
The universe is infinitely expanding;
That’s how much I love you.
What Is Love? (Poem)
A little backstory before the poem. It was 2003 and I was a young maiden of 18 when I met a younger man whom I would fall in love with.
I was excited and hopeful for the future when I wrote this, and unfortunately, that love wouldn't last and turned into battered women syndrome and physical abuse by mid-2004 into 2005.
We look each other in the eye.
Love surrounds us in this small room.
Our lips touch, tongues prodding, dancing amongst each other, Our hands touching and feeling sensitive places...
I want to be one with you.
One in an unbreakable union.
Take me, take me gently.
Take me and make this bond last.
Show me... Show me everything and all of you.