Millions of words,
Go through my mind,
But the one I like the most,
Out of all the words,
Is a single name,
Your name,
It holds so many memories,
Just your name,
Brings a smile to my face,
Thinking about you,
I use so many words,
Yet there isn't enough, not enough to explain,
To explain what you mean to me,
But then that means,
I don't really need words,
I can show you,
Cause my actions can speak,
Speak the words I can not,
To show you instead of telling,
And hope it all gets through,
Little by little,
To fully understand,
What I mean when I say,
"I love you,"
Cause I love just you,
Only you can bring a smile,
A real smile to my face,
By just hearing a single name,
Your name,
It's all I need.
About the Creator
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
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