Love has no limit

Corny, I admit it

But, here's a snippit

Always, sealtbelt click it

Cuz love's road is bumpy

Left me jaded and grumpy

Wrecked my ride,

Dented my blindside

Peeled my paint, rusty

Left my undercarriage dusty

Now, that my tank's empty

No one left except me

Walking without limit

I submit

Can love have limits and still be called love?

Should not it be a boundless energy?

A bond so strong that all the world can see,

And not fly off as if it were a dove?

I know it's something for which we both strove,

Enthralled within our blessed ecstasy;

The process where the I's became the "we,"

Ensconsed with our beloved treasure trove.

But worlds are not as perfect as we want,

We cannot bend them to our own hearts' will;

The ghosts of pasts do follow us and haunt,

They leave us panting out of breath and taunt,

Can love have limits and be called love still?

Love holds its own e'en when it seems so gaunt.

#lovelimits #challenge #poetry #sonnet

My baby looked at me from behind the glass. I could not look her in the eyes, so I look at the ground. I just close my eyes and squeeze thelittle pack of tissues in my hands. My husband did not live long enough to see this day, but he undoubtedly would not have come. He gave up on her as soon as we found out. I hear the doctors shift around and I peer into the glass. There she is. My daughter. Most people know her as the woman who heartlessly slaughtered fourteen high-ranking officials after seducing them, but I can only see my daughter when I look in her eyes.

Our home life was as ideal as it could get. I stayed home to watch her and her siblings grow older while my husband worked to keep a roof over our heads. I was there for the children as much as I could be, but with six little ones needing attention, you canonly delegate your time so well. She was the third of them, a precocious little girl with a huge imagination. When we saw the report, I tried to think of how I wrongedher. What I had missed. Did she set cats on fire when I was nursing her brothers? Did she beat up little boys on the playground at school? For years I racked my brain trying to figure out how my little girl had become a horrible murderer. I could not. I never could.

Our visitations would be short but I could tell the little girl I raised was gone. Some time between her being the two year old wondering how a baby could breathe in my stomach and the eighteen year old I sobbed over as we drove her to college, she was changed drastically. Perhaps it was some time before then or well after. But, all I knew was that the little girl was gone. Yet, as I watched the prison warden and doctors prepare to kill the woman who had stolen my innocent little girl, I couldn't help but cry. She was my baby. I made her in a passionate hour while her siblings slept and tried to give her the love she needed ever since then. And even though I obviously failed, I had to be there.

She was propped up, and I could the blue eyes she had gotten from her father. My long brown hair, which had been shaved off, still stuck up in little plumes. Her pale skin, inherited from both of us, shone in the florescent lights.

"Any last words?"

She looked right at me, and smiled. "Bye, Mother."

If it has a limit, it ain’t love... perhaps it never was.

But there’s this other thing, the craving to feel valued.

Oh when that thirst isn’t quenched - I’m upset, I feel petty, I’m easily aggravated, I lean into abstractions.

“I might just move on, yeah - she’s has this all wrong. She doesn’t love me anyway. Why should I be the only one fighting for resolution? This is supposed to go both ways!”

Who is this really about? Is it about love or is it about me? When I mature enough to want the best for her, without considering self preservation, without charging her to fill my voids so that she can fly free, without lying to myself about why I’m here... that’s when I loved. Now, how many people have you loved?

There are many kinds of love. There is love that you feel for family, parents, siblings, cousins. This kind of love feels reassuring and to some extent is the type of love that to many is forever. It is unconditional and these people are the ones that you are sure that even when they leave this world they love you from beyond. Then there is love between friends.

People that you choose to care for who keep your secrets, share experiences with and that at certain points in your life stay or leave. Loving and caring for those few that stay forever and feel just like family.

Then there is love, the type of love with that special someone that takes your breath away, makes your knees weak and causes your heart to flutter a million different ways. Does love have a limit? I believe people have a breaking point. To fantasize and romanticize love based on book, movies and stories is unrealistic. Some people believe love has to do with luck or compare it to finding a needle in a haystack. Some people find it, while others simply don't. I believe love is more than an emotion of euphoria filled with passion and happiness. Love is about going through the ups and downs of life together with that special person. Love is about compromises and having arguments, making up and sharing all the good and bad points in your life. When people say love has a limit it's not because they didn't love enough it's because this love just wasn't right.

People have limits, people can break easily just like life is very fragile and can be gone in a flash. Love is like a flame that can burn bright and slowly it dims away unless you add more fuel. When people give up and stop trying, that's when love dies. Emotions are limitless you will always feel something until the day you die. Love isn't limitless, the person is the one who chooses to let love go, be it a good reason or a bad reason to let love go. Ultimately it is the person who once felt it that decides whether love is limitless or not.

Ask me anyday and I will say that I love you. But on the other hand, I don't know what loving means. To love is to strain oneself for another. To love is to be forgiving.

To love is to be giving, without expecting anything in return.

And sometimes, I wonder.

Like the time you came home from your football practice and I was mad that you chose to spent time running after a ball instead of helping me clean the house.

Or the time that I was annoyed that you signed us up as volunteers without checking with me first.

Or when I realize that you have stopped writting me love letters as you once did.

Dear, I do say that I love you, but sometimes I wonder: If I loved you, what I think like this? Would I act like this? Would I speak like this?

A year ago when I really wished that you'd be mine, I would have signed up for hours and hours of voluntary practice with you! Or I would have spent hours just watching you play.

But how is it now that I have my heart's deepest desire - now that I can call you mine, now that I can love all of you, I wonder?

Ask me anyday and I will say that I love you. But on the other hand, I don't know what loving means.

Or maybe I am just not trying hard enough?

Love has a limit.

How could we love endlessly?

If we can't control our feelings.

How could we love a person?

If people change involuntary & the earth keeps spinning.

How could we love an object?

If it can be lost or forgotten.

How could we love a home forever?

If it can be blown away in a instant.

From natural disasters or just the sense of it no longer feeling like home.

How could we say love has no limits?

If our world makes everything different.

Constantly evolving or self-destructing.

Love has a limit even if we can't see it.

You live it.

It is in the endless minute right at the peak of a 'real goodbye'.

Loves limit is when you can't try anymore; you just can't!

Love at its limit will kill you more if you don't let it loose, let it go.

Love has a limit,

At that facet of time

I crossed years ago.

Love left behind, because it does have limits, and I wish to not be limited.

Loves limit exists when the only way you live is to not give a shit at all...

Deux coeurs beating as one..

Hand in hand, walking side by side-

Two souls inseperable.

How long will they last?

That even they don't know...

Who's to say it won't be forever.

Sometimes they argue, fight-

And quarrel for silly reasons....

Why? They aren't quite sure.

There is one thing that is certain...

Wherever they go-

They want to be there together.

If they stick to each other..

Come what may, I believe-

Then their love will be eternal.

Does love have a limit? Hell yeah. It all started with a look under the rain one Sunday afternoon. The rain soaked the earth and that fresh natural smell rented the air. Looking for a place to bide under a petrol station, my eyes locked with those of a tall skinny light skinned boy. What I remember next was his pleasant cologne chocking on my throat as he asked for my digits. Of cos I gave them to him. A first date led to another so did the first kiss. All was well until I got soaked in his flesh and soul. I should have known destiny had other things in store for me when he made that other chick pregnant. Or when he had that affair with one of my best friends. Maybe the limit was crossed when I did not leave early enough. Or when the lies became too much and too fluent. Maybe the limit was when the phone passwords kept changing per hour. Or when his weekned outings with his boys surpassed his longing to see me. How would I have known though? When this was my first chance at love? I wish had known the limits before. When to say yes and when to stop. But again, the adrenaline of love and lust was too much to open my eyes. Such is life.