Tag: f

if the vessel is broken to begin with, how can one love? it oozes, it overspills, it falls between the cracks, it is imperfect. it is fouled, for not only do we mistake lust, for love, the mundane, for the divine, but we add in all kinds of illusions into it. eternity, affinity, dependency. what was once reserved for the sacred now becomes profane. 

“i do not know what would i do without you,”

“it is only you that i can confide into,”

“in the end, i return to you.”

“i want to love you forever.”

alas, you can never contain me to begin with.

I am in love, but at the same time I want to unlove. It overpowers me. So I seek ways to break off with another when I know my incapacity to do so, and so I severe myself in ways I can but always come, in time,  unfurling before him, baring all that is within me.

I am in love, but at the same time I want to love another. I want to seek the possibilities in the unknown, the mysterious, the unattainable, even in the mundane; it is the over-spilling of love that I want to extend towards others.