The Desire for Love
Love, when you first breathe it, is like taking in fresh air for the first time and realising what you had been breathing before was poison.
Love, when you first meet it, has a smile so warm it melts whatever coldness you never knew you held inside of you.
Love, when it first touches you, makes you feel as alive as the day your mother first held in her arms.
But love ensnares you, and like the ugly jaws of a beast, it refuses to release you from its grasp.
And then, suddenly, it abandons you.
Love when it leaves, leaves a wound so deep, a hollow so profound, that no matter how much I dug, no amount of sand could ever fill it.
Love when it left, had me running like a madman, chasing a high that had me plummeting toward my own death.
But it was okay.
Because for the first time I could see the beauty of the sky above those dark clouds.
Wanting something so badly that you are willing to burn for it is like a junkie chasing that first high–the one that made every high after feel like a pale imitation.
And love for me was that drug.
And now I desire love.
I hunger for something I may never hold again, something I may never find again, and I am willing to lose myself searching for it.
You might not understand, because you will never know the tenderness of that first embrace, nor the overwhelming peace and serenity that overcame me the first time I saw her, approached her, and heard her voice.
She was my love.
And now all I can do is burn with the desire for love...
...a warmth that will never cradle me again.
- by honeylitroom