by Austin Snelson
My mind is riddled with the question “what really is love?”
Try… and try again.
Try after try after try after try.
The saying “History will repeat itself” isn’t only true to history.
This applies to whatever that thing called love is, my mind is littered with love.
Try… trying again.
My Love is irreplaceable.
I’m taken for granted.
My Mind is impenetrable.
This fear is instilled in me.
You win me over only to show how easy my love is to shatter.
My mind is bigger than this thing called love.
My love is insignificant in this game you play.
My mind– my love is washed down the drain at the sake of the plug you so easily pulled, does that suffice?
Where did the love go, where did my will to love go?
What is love?
Will I find the love to penetrate my impenetrable mind?
Or will I start trying and trying and trying again…
Can I love?
How can I get my mind to learn to love?
My Love has been shattered at the sake of the repetitive game you play.
Image by Megan Waardenburg