Mon, 10/07/2019 - 20:30 -- Zanderr

I think the worse thing is imagining what I feel for you right now

isn't what they call love,

True Love.

It's an inflamed obsession,

more temporary, something that'll fade overtime.

I don't want what I have with you to fade.

And they say I'm too young to fall in love -

and maybe I am.

Maybe all of this is some twisted joke

maybe it's just plaster-

but I'm stuck in this mold.

If what I feel for you isn't love,

Then I don't want what love is.

But maybe whatever this is,

is close enough to love that it won't hurt me.

I want to make my own love

the love I have now, with you.

That's the love I want.

But they say it's impossible, that it'll pass.

And what if it does?

What will I be left with?

What will I have to call my own?

I don't want them to be right.

My feelings for you are so raw,

So untouched-

So delicate.

I just want this to be love.

I want this to be the only love I know.

This poem is about: 


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