When the issue of “love” is brought up to me
I listen to their words in confusion.
Why do I have to open up to love?
My physical heart may be the size of my fist,
(the fist I sent flying to the arms of people)
but my spiritual heart is infinite.
Love to me is defined by care, kindness, helping,
a clear connection with another being;
no walls, guards, or expecting only fun,
therefore it makes no sense to limit it to one.
My Love is not a vessel or a barrel.
My Love is the ocean that fills our world.
So, I love everybody. My ears work,
my hands open, and my smile available.
What I believe they want me to “open up” to,
is romance. Not love. I already have love.
Their idea of love means devoting self to a man,
sharing bodies, toothpaste, fries,
an umbrella, …life.
It’s a week of um, new experiences for me. In which it leaves me no time to write anything at all, which may be a bad thing because to me writing fuels my soul. If I’m not writing I would at least channel a bit of my thoughts in social media (read: Insta Stories) or some other thing. There’s just literally nothing I want to tell stories about, my night time now spent chasing deadlines. While they utilise my creative brain, they do not nourish my thirsty-for-writing self.
So tonight I am not touching my work at all. I’m not giving up neither am I complaining. I am simply taking a break. Went shopping today too and ate at three different restaurants. While walking on my own a line of a poem strung, but in my meta-thinking “Oh so I need to walk to be able to be poetic!” I forgot what the line was. We’ll try to make up an on-the-spot stanza. After this I’m going to do another work that’s not paid but something I’ve always wanted to do.