this is just a ruff first draft, I'll be editing for years to come, but I needed some therapy, comments and critiques are appreciated ----------------------------------------------------------- My love for you speaks like a prophet with a broken tounge It knows not what to say, only the inflections that flow over the words Like the tip of my tounge over my lips every time I think of your eyes, and my soul bleeds and cries My love for you is pain and hunger, it is beauty and all the things I have never been able to speak It’s the words on the tip of my tounge when I wake and the taste in my mouth when I loose my train of thought in the middle of the afternoon, when the light is hazy, soft and yellow, and I can’t think straight for 10 minutes after My love for you is scared, alone and the only thing that makes no sense in my life, but the only thing I want to explore. My love for you is the end of a sentence that is cut off before it’s spoken and then forgotten. It is punctuated with a laugh, soft, low and sweet, And a tear that does not taste salty It bleeds me and I ache for days The weight on my chest and brief memory of your fingers It digs me a hole so deep, and I don’t want to climb out.
'It’s the words on the tip of my tounge when I wake and the taste in my mouth when I loose my train of thought in the middle of the afternoon, when the light is hazy, soft and yellow, and I can’t think straight for 10 minutes after' I like that passage. It's tactile and visceral. But why is love always imprisoning? Why is it such a bully? Maybe, when all is said and done, love is what we spend our lives trying to be free of.
thank you, I prefer writing that's tactile, I'm glad that got across with mine. I think for me that the whole unrequited love thing is what keeps me sane, I have no idea why, gotta break that habit, lol. Love is amazing, but it's bound to drive you crazy whether you're in it or without it.
