Love.
Hidden beneath silent eyes.
Seen between each sly reply.
Caught by the whiff of increased awareness.
Love.
Starts with smiles.
Continues, repairing each misplaced word or wrong hearing.
Ends with a messy loss, not easily cleaned.
Love.
Brought back to life by promises and regret.
Returns with cation or is forever dead.
Rebuilt, stronger than before but confusingly just as fragile, maybe even more.
YOU ARE READING
Dizzy to the Point of Exhaustion
PoetryPoems. I know. I am incredibly deep and see meaning in everything. Jokes. Hopefully this doesn't suck. warning: some of these poems definitely kinda suck... oops! #881 in poetry March 4th, 2017👀 #463 in poetry March 9th, 2017😮 #348 in poetry Ma...
