It’s like looking in a mirror
You see all the cracks.
You may feel cursed.
The cracks are a burden.
The cracks may be perfect to you.
"My imperfections are beautiful."
Some people don’t know love.
They look at themselves and see only the cracks.
No beauty or love.
They try to tape them, glue them, anything to make them forget.
But they still see the thin like from where they broke.
So it's all they see of themselves.
Others love too much.
They run around, going from one to another.
They don't see the cracks and embrace them.
Whatever you call it.
They do it just for that, and not the beautiful imperfections.
Then there are the ones who see them.
But they don't care.
They embrace the cracks, no matter how big or small.
And they love for who you are.
They may not even care for your mirror.
They only care......
In-between, Outside, Everything (X)
Love is when you see the cracks,
When you see the shattered bits of the mirror.
Love is when you see the imperfections,
But in your eyes,
The fractures are perfection.
The imperfections are the perfection,
You have always looked for.
Love is the good,
And the bad.
It’s the in-between,
And the coloring outside the lines,
Of a coloring page.
Love is finding the broken things,
I used to hate myself.
It took me a long time,
That who I was,
Was just as great,
As those I envied.
I came to understand,
That no one is completely happy;
That everyone has some scars.
But scars don’t make you ugly.
Scars give you a story to tell;
They are the roadmap,
Of the life you have led.
I was bullied for years,
By my peers,
By my friends,
And by my family.
But I didn’t like to be the doormat;
I didn’t enjoy all the dirt that people wiped on me.
Because a doormat,
No matter how nicely made,
Will eventually just be filled with dirt.
I’d much rather be a painting,
Hanging on the wall,
At all those who had trampled me.
Art is pretty,
Is it not?
But beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
And everyone sees differently.
I learned after years,
Of being treated like the trash,
And left for dead,
That I had to learn what beautiful was,
No one can tell you what beautiful is to you.
And if you decide you’re worth it,
If you decide to see yourself,
Then who can stop you?
But art isn’t just pretty.
You have to put effort in,
To make it that way.
You have to put effort,
Into loving yourself.
You can’t just turn around one day,
And decide you love yourself.
It is something you must be taught,
And it’s something you have to learn,
No one else can do it for you.
It seems like a mountain,
Without a path,
That you have to make your way over.
There isn’t a clear path,
You have to look for the art,
In the fractured pieces of yourself.
You have to adapt your idea of beauty,
And you have to find your beauty within yourself.
There are still days,
When I have a hard time liking myself.
But I always love myself.
If I know my own worth,
I don’t have to rely on others,
To know I have it.
I love my face,
And my soul,
And the improvements I’ve made.
There are days,
When I don’t recognize my face,
But even on the days,
When my body does not feel,
That it is a beautiful body I have.
Is taking everything,
And changing your view of beauty,
To fit it.
It is loving the broken pieces,
And keeping together,
All that has been smashed to bits.
It is taking the good with bad,
And understanding what makes it all,
The capacity to accept others how they are and
where they are in their lives.
Love sets no limits.
Love has no boundaries.
Love is all encompassing, all compassionate and all complete.
LOVE IS INFINITE.
Love is the reason why humanity
Strives to keep going on.
Love is the best part of ourselves that when
we share with another, multiplies it so much more!
Love has no end,
The language of the Universe is said to be love...
Love is Human. The language of the Universe is the omnipotent , Possibility.
Love. Whenever someone asks me to describe what love feels like, my mind always drifts to you. My curly-haired, blue-eyed boy. It’s like hot chocolate on a cold winter day surrounded with cozy blankets watching your favourite film. It feels like the sun caressing your skin as you walk barefoot in the grass. It feels like the drop you experience in your stomach at the top of a rollercoaster, then it disappears because you’re strapped in safely. It’s like roasting marshmallows on an open fire, the flickering inferno creating a glow on your smiling face.
It’s like driving down the highway, windows rolled down and music blasting, singing at the top of your lungs. It’s like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and when you bite into them, they melt in your mouth. A bright sunny day with not a cloud in sight. A delicious cup of coffee early in the morning, the birds singing and the sun peeking over the Parisian rooftops.
I could go on about what love feels like. But I won’t. To do so would constitute in a novel. I will say one thing. If in this lifetime you happen to find someone who makes you feel any of the things I’ve listed above, don’t let them go. Because how rare it is to find another who will make you feel the way the stars look; bright and luminous. We think we have time, but we don’t. Life is too short not to tell the person you love how you feel.
#poetry #prose #freeverse #love
Love is spending five hours messaging somebody who you can't be with
But not thinking any time has passed
And thinking you still have time for a shower and breakfast before you go to that meeting you missed
Three hours ago.
It is being outside of time
Every time you meet
And aching to kiss them without going further.
Unless they want to,
It’s like this dull ache
Under my heart
Moments come and go
But when the moment comes
I silently beg for a reprieve
…It never comes.
No one said when you find
The other part of your soul
That it will take copious
Amount of strength to mask
Fake a smile
Force a laugh.
When you split from them
Deep past your ego
Deep past your insecurities
Deep past your heart
You know they belong to you
And you to them.
You waited all your life
And lifetimes before
To touch the one
Meant for you and only you.
Love is a bush of thorns.
The floral beauty out of reach.
Love is wrought with pain and pride,
And only given to the gardner.
Love is as sharp as Cupid's arrows,
Piercing deep and striking true.
Love is an ache that cannot be cured,
Weakening the heart of all it touches.
Love is nothing but a pain,
Giving the lover a cacophonous sob.
And above all, love is a tormented torcher.
When the love is brought into the light.
‘L’amour est un oiseau rebelle’
They say if you love something then set it free~ that must be love!
l’amour, love~ what can it be compared to? Or how can one describe this emotion?
Mom’s have love for all their children, from the moment they are growing in their mother’s womb.
Even birds know how to take care of their young. They feed the little ones and teach them how to fly when they’re ready to soar!
Love is a powerful feeling- a beautiful thing that when shown through acts of love transforms loved ones to share their love, too.
Carmen: ‘L'amour est un oiseau rebelle’ Song by Maria Callas.
#‘L'amourestunoiseaurebelle’ © vendredi, 11 octobre, 2019.
what is love?
love is the feeling in your chest when that someone walks by.
love is the excitement of staying up with that someone until dawn just to talk.
love is holding someone when they cry just to see their smile.
love is being with them just to feel their presence.
love is being thankful for just the existence of them.
love is beautiful.
love is kind.
love is love.