The meaning of love,
Often visualized as doves,
Flying through the skies,
Going above doubt and lies.
But we each have our own definition,
Whether we're tied into submission,
Emotionally distraught beyond recognition,
Only to be at competition,
We are all lost,
Our brains begin to frost,
Knowing the cost,
Of what love has yet to toss,
But of course the heart chooses to leave or stay.
Sometimes the mind chooses,
Maybe it's not worth it,
To feel the pain again,
To feel the sickness again,
To feel starvation again,
But for what?
They always leave for the "better",
Whilst the chills from loneliness,
Engulfs you into a empty pit.
Sometimes it's easier to let them go,
For belief of their happiness,
For the sake of their soul,
Because you knew,
It was a bomb ready to explode,
A building ready to crumble,
A car ready to crash,
A chapter ready to end.
Maybe their new interest,
Was the "True Love" all along,
No more than a mere distraction,
A palette cleanser,
Nothing compared to the full course.
You will never know,
You haven't looked back since,
Even when it's tempting,
Your face remains still,
Even as sadness waters your eyes,
As anger courses through your veins,
As pain pounds the arteries of your heart,
As revenge consumes every neuron in your brain.
You walk away,
Further and further,
Until the tightness in your chest ceases,
Until the slouching in your back vanishes,
Until the smile of joy returns,
Until the wholeness of self captivates you once more.
Because I was beginning to love you,
But you showed me,
It wasn't worth it.