You may ask what I know of love
The answer is simply
nothing
It is a foreign concept
A shout into the void

I’m not sure what love is
but if I had to guess it would be
the soft quiver in his voice
or the dark freckles that paint his face
like a mural that is seen
but never quite understood

Love is in the details
It is in the tangled mess
we call our hands
and lingers in the unspoken
“I need you’s”
between sips of tea
from chipped coffee mugs

It is in the words we want to say
yet never speak
Love may be silent
but its eyes reveal the unspeakable
They implore you
as a panicked tear falls from its cheek
“Please don’t abandon me”

But  Love is the evergreen tree
whose tenderness is not  shed
or lost over time
It does not need to be replenished
or have the desire to start over
Love sweeps you in its arms
and assures you
“I am pleased with where we are” 

Love is a blissful whisper some days
Hardly  there
Barely h e a r d
Other days it's a boisterous roar
that screams from the top of its lungs

Help

Love is a chaotic mess
that people crave to be a part of
Yearning for devotion
or  the silver lining 
just    out    of    their   grasp
All they can hold in their hands is rejection
as they begin to conceal themselves
from love’s true intentions

But it demands to be felt
Love barricades you inside of your bedroom
turns out the lights
and waits for you

to feel him