Love
As I lay here and think about writing about love. Love? A big question? Perhaps an answer. To what. Answer to those questions we have asked ourselves all our life. Questions that has been asked by everyone. Questions that need to be answered. Perhaps we are all looking for answers. In love should we find those answers? That is a question all by itself. I don’t have the answers.
Love. Ah, that four letter word. The big one. What love is? Love is pain. Love is dried out tears. Love is knotted words in your throat. Love is hurt. Love. Love is when you smile for no reason. Love is when you cry for no reason. Love is lonely. Love is one. Love is when you hear the phone ring. Love is imagination. Love is fantasy. Love is life. Love is bleeding hands. Love is a bottle full of aspirins. Love is emergency room. Love is lost. Love is tamed. Love is your lonely heart. Love is joy. Love is thought. Love is when you exist in your world. Love is sun. Love is light that lit up the murky heart. Love is dark. Love is forever. Love is once. Love is. Love is wait. Love is time. Love is throbbing heart. Love is word. Love is meaning of heart. Love is unspoken words. Love is. Love is you. Love is touch.
Ah, love. Love. For it, the world not exist. All in search of love, but no where to be found. Love is water for thirsty man. Love is food of hunger. Love is. Where is love. Should love be found? Or love find you. I don’t know. Love is confusion. Love is the moon the in the middle of the night. Love is shed tears. Love is. Where is love. Is love out here or there. Does love wait. Or wait is love. Is there an answer to it all. Or all answers are in love. No one would know. But love is, still.