What is life without love?
Only an endless succession of hours, of minutes, of seconds.
I don't know love. I don't know what it is like to miss those hours or those seconds. To miss them floating past me as they fly away, to love someone who makes me feel like I am worthy of being. I don't know this.
Will I ever feel what it is like to never be alone, to know that even when I am not in their presence, I am always in their thoughts?
That would be enough for me. To know I was loved by someone who I could not stand to be without. To find someone who can grow with me and change with me, without either of us ever noticing.
Life without love is a leaf in fall, dry and withered, which turns to dust as soon as it is touched.
No one should know this.
Seemingly infinite possibilities of angles and curves
Forced and allowed
Entering unknown territory forever
Persuaded and pushed
A blur, without boundaries, free
Reaching, then nothing
December has ended, tracks in the snow
Remember
Relentlessly gnawing and enveloping me completely
The weight in my chest grows heavier,
The throbbing more torturous
With each beat of my heart,
More strength is sapped from my limbs
The end is near; soon the only movement left
Will be my slowly weakening pulse,
And the trickle of a solitary tear as it glides over my rapidly cooling cheek