Love.

Art by: From_May

I am a child when it comes to love.

My eye is attracted to the shiny flame, the exciting spark of something new in this old, worn world. What a beautiful fire; warm and gentle, it burns bright like stars in the night and I want to drink it in, drink it in. I want to pull it apart and understand it, hold it in my hand, keep it at my side, tucked in my heart.

My love is like a small child: curious, insistent, true but unable to handle fragile things with the care they deserve. So without thought or permission, eager to know, my fingers reach, my hands grab for that fire dancing so prettily before me.

My skin burns red, and the air is choked by the smell of something gone dark. A broken spell, a dead fire and a choked out chain of I’m sorrys, drowned by tears.

I wasn’t lying, I am a child when it comes to love. But even children must grow up, one day.


Note: It has been a very long time, hasn’t it? I haven’t even been able to write a birthday post this year, even though I have for the last 3 years. A lot has happened, as it tends to when one disappears like that. I hope you’ve been doing well and that you’re spending your time happily this holiday season.

Listening to:

One thought on “Love.”

  1. Children understand love best. Not merely as something to hold or posess. Peer into or cuddle with. But as life, that universal flame that brings everything alive and sets everything back to rest. Even the cycles of dying are a part of life. God bless you dear child / young adult

    Like

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