Sharks

I question if I even know what love is.

Because love can’t possibly feel like this.

If it were up to me I’d chase you,

like in the movies,

right before you board your plane to tell you not to go.

But this isn’t that movie. And you ought to go.

Often my feelings just run me over,

I try to validate them but it doesn't matter what I think.

What matters is the reality of truth behind those deceptive butterflies in my stomach,

or anxious vibrations that circulate the ache.

Circling like sharks around my heart,

the pounding of my pulse I clench in my fists.

The undeniable love and passion wholesome enough to perspire,

straining back and forth in distress.

It feels so real because it is.

Banging against the shields of my subconscious.

I created this.

I feed the sharks down the bridge of my woe.

You see, validation is not the green light to our feelings,

It's the acceptance that I wasn’t home enough for you;

and the power to

let it go,

to where-ever it is that malnourished love

goes to die.

*

For now I'll just smell the roses, and blow out the candle on this melancholy Monday.