Love’s Lucky Nine
Love is gone
Love isn’t love these days,
One flaw highlighted then they run away,
Love isn’t love when the worst comes they run.
You do not want a broken person but then aren’t we all broken?
We are confused,
Find true love and no matter what happens, fight and work things through.
I don’t know if I found love,
But then his heart made Jesus’ look like a joke; it glowed and accepted me.
The late-night texts and the creepy blushes every time,
The lemonade made out of this lime.
I am sour, I am bitter, I am a shade sweeter, probably seedy like guava too,
But he sees the beauty despite these.
The imaginary sleepovers, the laughs and the million words that Whisper my Beauty.
I am the beast; scarred, angry, hopeless, thirsty, lost and coiled up.
But then like a flower in the morning I opened up to enjoy the sunlight.
The broken shards make the perfect paintings,
The Broken pieces try to be perfect and that’s what destroys their uniqueness..
He picked up every bit and polished it;
He might have been a cobbler in his past life.
His smile and his innocence were like a drug to my brokenness,
Even when I burn bridges, he rebuilds them.
When I said “angels do not mix with demons” he disagreed
Called me “the holy broken one, who has seen different shades of torture and endured through to still be a beauty”
My diary he became; no slaps, no judgment just love.
I might probably change my mind about things
And this closeness can withstand eternity..
He understood I was broken and this broken is what sunshine looks like to him.
He said “this is us”, my reply “this is for us and you know it”
