Love is like the stimulant which stirs my heart and soul so that my incoherent words become poetry, brushstrokes and blotches of colour become paintings.
Love is like the analgesic that eases out my pain of ekking out a meaningless existence, caught in its diurnal cycle of rising from one dream and falling into another.
Love is ike the addiction which brings out the worst withdrawal symptoms each time I try to break away from its shackles, drowning me into that irresistible urge to erase out every bit of my existence, so that not an iota of that painful memory can ever be retrieved.
No one ever comes out of love unscathed. It's like watching yourself burn to death slowly, blood vaporizing, flesh melting and dripping, bones being charred into unrecognizable mounds of charcoal.
If you are strong enough to survive such a gruelling pain, your soul may rise from the ashes like a Phoenix, but the memory of that pain will always haunt you and yet, just as a moth aspires for its fateful fire, you will once again crawl back into the embrace of that all-consuming addiction called love.
This is what love is to me.
Love is like...
Author
SummerForest
Well-Known Member
- Messages:
- 1,255
- Likes:
- 13,336
- Points:
- 388
- Blog Posts:
- 50