Love is...

Love is beautiful, magical, glorious. It's powerful enough to warm the coldest heart. It's a melody, a song we can all sing but are so afraid to do so.
 
.

black-and-white-lost-love-quotes-world-Favim.com-285026.jpg
 

“There is never a time or place for true love.

It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”

― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever

:rose:
 


“Love is needing someone. Love is putting up with someone's bad qualities because they somehow complete you.”
― Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby​
 
Love is...
waiting for them to return, even though you know they won't.
holding on to the memories, because they make up who you are.
Looking back, even though it hurts, because forgetting would hurt more.
Smiling, because it all still makes you sad.
 
Love is...
waiting for them to return, even though you know they won't.
holding on to the memories, because they make up who you are.
Looking back, even though it hurts, because forgetting would hurt more.
Smiling, because it all still makes you sad.


Dammit.
Lady made me cry.
 
Love is worrying about someone when they miss a phone call. It's wanting to know his favorite flavor of ice cream or the last film that made him cry. It's holding someone in your arms just because it feels right. It's singing a silly song out loud together and following it with a tender kiss. It's putting stupid things aside to try and work together. It's kindness from a patient lover even when you may not deserve it. It's taking crazy risks when you know it might not work out in the end, but hoping they'll be there even when it's over. It's wanting to be a better person, because you want to be worthy of such beauty.

It's waking each morning wondering if the night before had been but a wonderful dream. :rose:

Simply beautiful, Hikari...
 
, “We come to Love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly," Sam Keen.
 
Love is finding the perfect match to the rough edge you didn't know you had.
 
Love is knowing you don't have to be perfect, and you'll still be loved
 
Love is knowing you don't have to be perfect, and you'll still be loved

It sure is...:rose:

Love is action. Love is tolerance. Love is learning your partner's love language and then expressing love in a way that he can receive. Love is giving. Love is receiving. Love is plodding through the slow eddies of a relationship without jumping ship into another's churning rapids. Love is recognizing that it's not your partner's job to make you feel alive, fulfilled, or complete; that's your job. And it's only when you learn to become the source of your own aliveness and are living your life connected to the spark of genius that is everyone's birthright can you fully love another.

Sheryl Paul
 
This was originally slated for the Valentine's Day thread. I find that here, now that my health and life has granted me time to put black pixels to white pixels, is perhaps more apropos.

~~~~~​

As I had walked the path that was so worn
The same I frequented when oft forlorn

It was Her.

Towering redwoods along the rocky hills overshadowed the crisp, cool morning
My joyless dyad spotting the footprints I left yesterday
The soil red-brown, only wilderness surrounding my well-beaten path
This daily walk, a stroll which took minutes or hours
Was always without escort or encounter
It was my time to hurt, doubt, hate, envy, curse, loathe
And was a path traveled best alone

... yet it was Her.

Skin as pale as moonlight, yet more enchanting
Wavy hair white not from age, yet entirely ravishing
Waifish that she could float away with a mere whisper, yet powerful
Ethereal wrappings encompassing her entire flesh, yet all-together real
Those eyes ... ocean deep, chocolate eyes without equal

She was Love.

Instantly, my teeth clenched and nostrils flared
I ran full force as she stopped walking, watching, waiting
Grabbing Her by the throat I tossed her backwards
Her frail form forced firmly upon the icy stone
My unrelenting Atlas grip would be a death too easy for the bitch
Loosening and held up under her chin, toes inches from the ground

Love does not struggle.

"I suppose Love is patient," snarling to my prey
My white-knuckled fist took the hunting knife now unsheathed
The blade's thirst for blood to be quenched
Her stomach stabbed without warrant
Each crimson incision darker than the last
Amplified by the purity of her creamy skin
Twisting, tearing, slashing, slicing
What little scraps she wore slid off in tatters
A bleeding, bruised, beaten bare body for I alone to slaughter
Two tender tears trickled touchingly down Her blood splattered cheeks

Love weeps at hate.

Insulted, I cry out amidst my own tears, those of joyous revenge
"I've cried enough for Love to last a millennia!"
My hand arcs up and stabs effortlessly into each eye
Gouging, grinding, gutting the sockets clean
Bloody waves with dotted white chunks flow freely
Splashing my face with the stench of iron
Hot liquid boiling off my raging body
Her limp body dumped into the pool of death below it

Love does not fight, for it is kind.

"... and now, Love, it is indeed blind"
Smirking slyly while wiping my blood smeared brow
Kneeling along side not in worship but for leverage
Two hands seizing the blood-slickened blade
Full-forced penetrations into any pure white I see
"Why?" I ask innocently as Her body is mutilated
"Why?" I cry out in tears of a soul in absolute pain
"WHY?" I straddle her chest, the dagger tossed down
"ANSWER ME!" I demand with hands closing her throat

Love speaks when it wants, never when Man needs.

A voice that haunts my dreams speaks
Her tone without sign of malice
Speech that would cause my body to tremble

"Love conquers all."

I am left alone once again on my knees
No sign of struggle, no stains on my body
The stone as grey as it was each day I passed it
My hands shaking violently as I stare into the palms
No trace of blood to be seen
"I cannot conquer Love" as I realize my fate
"I cannot live this out each day" as I reason my only option
"I cannot live" as I scoured for the dagger
I lunge for it as if my life depended on it
For my life did, yet for its end
The battle-weakened hands place the point at my chest
My still-beating heart pushing out onto the razor tip
The small pain on my flesh
Will soon end the intense pain within the pulsating organ beneath
"May my soul now know peace," I whisper
The trees all watch and say nothing
The stone stands strong and proud too stoic to provide sympathy
The dirt eagerly waiting to catch my body
My eyes attempt to close but cannot from the streams dotting the soil below
My lips pursed together tightly
My muscles tense, trembling without hope
I deeply inhale my last breath through my nostrils

"Love yourself."

Her hand bares no weight on my shoulder yet forces me to drop the blade
A warmth radiates my body as no raging fire could
Grief guilty hands cover my eyes as I sob uncontrollably

"To deny love inwardly, is to prevent love externally."

I place my hand upon Her own only to touch my own shoulder
Spinning around there is no trace of Her
No witness of my attempt to banish Love from the world

My remaining hours kneeling there recounting the events
Watching the shadows grow tall and the skies painted orange

I loved who I was in that moment.

Every fault.

Every gift.

Every thought.

Every action.

I fell in love with myself that day. Others have loved me ever since.
 
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Did you write this?

Simply gorgeous, it somehow resonated, mmmm. :rose:

May I add it to my passionate poetry thread please it so belongs there

This was originally slated for the Valentine's Day thread. I find that here, now that my health and life has granted me time to put black pixels to white pixels, is perhaps more apropos.

~~~~~​

As I had walked the path that was so worn
The same I frequented when oft forlorn

It was Her.

Towering redwoods along the rocky hills overshadowed the crisp, cool morning
My joyless dyad spotting the footprints I left yesterday
The soil red-brown, only wilderness surrounding my well-beaten path
This daily walk, a stroll which took minutes or hours
Was always without escort or encounter
It was my time to hurt, doubt, hate, envy, curse, loathe
And was a path traveled best alone

... yet it was Her.

Skin as pale as moonlight, yet more enchanting
Wavy hair white not from age, yet entirely ravishing
Waifish that she could float away with a mere whisper, yet powerful
Ethereal wrappings encompassing her entire flesh, yet all-together real
Those eyes ... ocean deep, chocolate eyes without equal

She was Love.

Instantly, my teeth clenched and nostrils flared
I ran full force as she stopped walking, watching, waiting
Grabbing Her by the throat I tossed her backwards
Her frail form forced firmly upon the icy stone
My unrelenting Atlas grip would be a death too easy for the bitch
Loosening and held up under her chin, toes inches from the ground

Love does not struggle.

"I suppose Love is patient," snarling to my prey
My white-knuckled fist took the hunting knife now unsheathed
The blade's thirst for blood to be quenched
Her stomach stabbed without warrant
Each crimson incision darker than the last
Amplified by the purity of her creamy skin
Twisting, tearing, slashing, slicing
What little scraps she wore slid off in tatters
A bleeding, bruised, beaten bare body for I alone to slaughter
Two tender tears trickled touchingly down Her blood splattered cheeks

Love weeps at hate.

Insulted, I cry out amidst my own tears, those of joyous revenge
"I've cried enough for Love to last a millennia!"
My hand arcs up and stabs effortlessly into each eye
Gouging, grinding, gutting the sockets clean
Bloody waves with dotted white chunks flow freely
Splashing my face with the stench of iron
Hot liquid boiling off my raging body
Her limp body dumped into the pool of death below it

Love does not fight, for it is kind.

"... and now, Love, it is indeed blind"
Smirking slyly while wiping my blood smeared brow
Kneeling along side not in worship but for leverage
Two hands seizing the blood-slickened blade
Full-forced penetrations into any pure white I see
"Why?" I ask innocently as Her body is mutilated
"Why?" I cry out in tears of a soul in absolute pain
"WHY?" I straddle her chest, the dagger tossed down
"ANSWER ME!" I demand with hands closing her throat

Love speaks when it wants, never when Man needs.

A voice that haunts my dreams speaks
Her tone without sign of malice
Speech that would cause my body to tremble

"Love conquers all."

I am left alone once again on my knees
No sign of struggle, no stains on my body
The stone as grey as it was each day I passed it
My hands shaking violently as I stare into the palms
No trace of blood to be seen
"I cannot conquer Love" as I realize my fate
"I cannot live this out each day" as I reason my only option
"I cannot live" as I scoured for the dagger
I lunge for it as if my life depended on it
For my life did, yet for its end
The battle-weakened hands place the point at my chest
My still-beating heart pushing out onto the razor tip
The small pain on my flesh
Will soon end the intense pain within the pulsating organ beneath
"May my soul now know peace," I whisper
The trees all watch and say nothing
The stone stands strong and proud too stoic to provide sympathy
The dirt eagerly waiting to catch my body
My eyes attempt to close by cannot from the streams dotting the soil below
My lips pursed together tightly
My muscles tense, trembling without hope
I deeply inhale my last breath through my nostrils

"Love yourself."

Her hand bares no weight on my shoulder yet forces me to drop the blade
A warmth radiates my body as no raging fire could
Grief guilty hands cover my eyes as I sob uncontrollably

"To deny love inwardly, is to prevent love externally."

I place my hand upon Her own only to touch my own shoulder
Spinning around there is no trace of Her
No witness of my attempt to banish Love from the world

My remaining hours kneeling there recounting the events
Watching the shadows grow tall and the skies painted orange

I loved who I was in that moment.

Every fault.

Every gift.

Every thought.

Every action.

I fell in love with myself that day. Others have loved me ever since.
 
Last edited:
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