Now before you give in to the love bug thirst
Make sure you give in to loving yourself first
And once you've found your true self
Heed my words for romantic wealth
Find someone who listens when you speak your heart
Who shows they care when your together or apart
Someone to sooth your tears
Who doesn't judge you for your fears
Someone who will talk with you until the sunrise
And hold you close until all your self doubt dies
When your nights are riddled with darkness and fright
Find someone who will stay with you until you find the light
But while these things are amazing when real
Your someone special should also feel
Your love
Your appreciation
Your acceptance
Your admiration
Never let things be one sided
Never let your loved ones feel slighted
When you find a love that's Pure and true
Everything else will make sense to you
About the Creator
Abi Rose Travis
I am a single mom with a passion for many things, but writing has been one since i was 13. So here goes nothing ❤️🤗
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Abi Rose Travis and writers in Poets and other communities.
making space
Since the only thing that might pull us back up is caring, it only makes sense that here, long after I’ve let my anger born of heartbreak and grief misplace, multiply, misdirect itself, let the enormity of my solitude turn into something I don’t know how to dispute with, something thick and heavy and suffocating, let the coldness thrash and fight under my skin, deeper still, in between the arches of my organs; here where the ground is always close and the fall is easy and I surrender to it often, lie without purpose for hours, it only makes sense that it is here, I decide to show up and surrender to the possibilities of the night. Show up to those who I deserted. Drawn to the sense of accomplishment, something I haven’t felt in a while, to memory of finished dish sending its aroma into the world and with it, wrapping the room with a strong sense of sweet nostalgia, I get up and decide to cook. I pick up my phone, type a message that reads “Dinner at mine @ 8PM, don’t bring anything” and before my courage deserts me again, drop it in our friends’ group chat, the way one would do when diffusing a bomb in the movies: one eye closed, snip at the wire, hoping for the best.
By Mesh Toraskar7 days ago in Feast
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.