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The Sort of Love

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Some say there’s many sorts of love. But I know there’s only one:

The sort that sends you flying with the birds beside the sun.

The sort that makes feel like you’ll never stop rising.

The sort that’s so incredible that it’s almost surprising.

The sort that makes you feel like you’re in love.

Some say there are many types of Love. But I know that that’s a lie:

I’ve never known a type of love that didn’t make me cry.

The only love I know is the sort that makes you burn inside

The sort that releases itself in tears and makes me want to hide.

The sort that makes you stop believing in Love.

Those who say only that only one love truly counts are right:

The sort that makes you feel like the stars aren’t all that bright.

The sort that makes you feel like dull, gloomy rain.

The sort that drives you to the edge of madness. But lifts you up again.

The sort of love that carries on through all the verses of this poem.

The sort of love that never stops carrying on, through goodness, through sin.

The sort of love that’s like a dream come true.

The sort of love that I share with you.



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