a person alone, under a blanket of “friends”

And still you longed for someone
To give you the kind of love they show in movies
The one that doesn’t end with an empty text,
One which flows through flowers and
Wine bottles pouring at dinner parties.
One which sings through tears,
Birthed together in our very own refuge.
A kind of love that is unconditional,
supportive, of sustenance
It fills you up like a balloon
And up, up, up
Together you both fly and speak to the clouds
And make friends with the sky.
You hoped for the love that you have always tried to give
You craved for the kind they write songs about,
The one that suffices every bus you have to jump in front of.
The kind that waters you when you are withering
A love that shapes into a forever, for whatever forever is
That holds your hand and listens
To you worry about things that are passing,
This sugar sweet, honey
suckle, nothing you can find in someone’s body.
A love that exists in a kind of friend
Born from your own soul –
sailing, caring, emphatic junkie.
A love that is
soft and violent
And loud and embracing
And everything in between.
The kind of selfless love even you couldn’t give yourself. 

“IMG_0127” by NguyenMinhKhiem is licensed under CC0 1.0

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