My Love is such sadness.

It lives in my tears,

In my pain,

In my wants and needs.

My love hopes and dreams,

Longs and pleads.

It is an emotion

Twisted by fate.

But with no coincidences and

No mistakes.

It has a life of its own

It grows and dies.

It lives and breathes

And suffocates my heart.

Sometimes it is warm and tender

Sometimes cold and hard.

It speaks to my soul in tender words

And then destroys me with silence.

My love expects too much

And settles for too little.

It betrays me at times,

And then returns home, head hanging in shame.

It gives itself away

Without my permission

And then in stubborn rebellion

Withholds itself even from me.

Such a convoluted emotion

With a will of its own

And a determination to survive at all costs in spite of me

And sometimes because of me.

But it always remains hopeful,

Waiting to be shared.

Wanting to be accepted and returned in kind,

maybe someday, I tell it, maybe…