Love / Poetry.

Love is for people who are mad and sad and lonely and misunderstood. Love is for everyone who has ever hurt, and for everyone who ever…

Love is for people who are mad and sad and lonely and misunderstood. Love is for everyone who has ever hurt, and for everyone who ever will. Love is for those who cannot believe in, understand or quantify the idea of feeling; love transcends reason. Love is everything; that’s why it leaves you hollow. That’s why without it, you feel alone. That’s why you want it, crave it, need it, but can never quite have enough of it; you, I, we are only human. This is a universal trope: we cannot have it all.

Love is for the lost, and the found, and the somewhere in between.

Love is for everyone, if you let it be.

It hurts because it matters; like you, like me, emanating. My favourite words, plural, eclipse the singularity of subjectivity to become More, to become One, to become Everything and Nothing and always, resolutely Something. Matter, matter, matter: choice. The power of three; the power of one; the power of some. The littlest things mean the most.

Healing.

Human.

Resolution.

Words curling on, fro…