A fan of love poetry,
That I was not.
Not until I met you!
Meeting you made my heart beat in two
Rhythms of joy and blessed.
Suddenly songs, I sang.
And dancing around like a fool.
But what did I care,
I had you.
But now love,
Now this part is too true.
Us being apart kills me,
Wishing to just say "I do!"
But my love for you burns,
This insane desire.
From what you've made of me,
I can't get any higher!
Writing love poetry for you is hazardous.
It kills my heart which once beat in two.
It leaves me crippled and alone;
Questioning my own self.
My own reality.
Dearest love,
What does my writing love poetry do?
Author notes
The creepy thing is that as soon as I finished writing this poem...
he texted me...
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