What is love?
I used to think we were only meant to love
One person for the entirety of our being;
A soulmate. As life goes, love has morphed
Into something else for me.
Maybe love isn’t black and white, or even gray?
Maybe it’s a hundred shades of a hundred different colors.
Maybe you can fall in love with the color of his eyes,
And the shape of her waist.
The way he tucks his foot behind him when he stands.
Maybe, love, is her laugh,
the kind you feel down in your bones.
His accent, the rasp that makes you dream
Of foreign places you’ve never been.
Maybe you can love pieces of people
Without being in love with them?
Like facets of a gem.
Rough, and smooth, and beautiful.
All at the same time.
Maybe just maybe,
That’s the real secret to happiness.
Categories: Addiction, Anxiety, bipolar disorder, Depression, Gardening, Homeopathic Remedies, Infertility, Mental Health, OCD, Organization, Parenting, PCOS, Planting, Poetry, Pregnancy, Self Esteem, self-care, Travel, Wanderlust, Writing