what I want to say,
is very difficult
to try and word.
I do not think
there is a right way
to explain it
or any words
to use,
no song to be sung
or music to be played;
because it will never be right.
I wish it were easier,
but it's pleasing to know
how hard it is
to explain how in love I am.
It should be difficult.
If someone asked you
why you loved someone,
why you were in love with them,
and you hesitated,
you stopped and you had to wonder you had to think;
that is when you know.
That is when you know
that what you feel,
is real.
It isn't just a rush of
chemicals and hormones,
it is the fibre of your being
rushing into every thought about that person
Every song you sing,
every instrument you play,
whether you are driving an endless road,
into an endless night
wondering where time went
because just yesterday she was clasping your hand
and blushing in the dark,
wondering if she could kiss you or not,
how warm your fingers felt linked with hers;
because just an hour ago
your skin was melting with hers,
flush and red,
because just a second ago,
your lips left marks on each other,
everywhere they went.
Whether you are spelling each others names with the stars
because just last night
you were laughing about nothing,
and in love about everything.
It should be so difficult,
you look at them
and you wonder
how many times in the next minute
you can make them smile
long enough for the sun to see
why they were never quite as bright.
It should be so difficult,
you wonder
why no one else
is stopping just as the world seemed to
when they laughed,
long enough for comedians to know
why no-one ever laughed at them like that.
It should be
that when you look at them
you see exactly why
your heart beats quick,
and your breath stops,
because who is getting to see
a person as magnificent as them
and having their heart
held by them?

The End

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