`love is.Love is,
a pair of umbrellas,
torn and tattered.
Love is,
a pack of lies,
both black and white.
Love is,
a bottle of snowflakes,
hiding under a tree.
Love is,
promises,
broken.
Love is,
thinking that the letter in the mailbox,
is from her.
Love is,
realising that the letter in the mailbox,
isn't.
Love is,
an act of disappearance,
or many.
Love is,
playing the piano,
by yourself.
Love is,
naming the song you play,
after her.
Love is,
emptying the 8347th bucket,
of tears.
Love is,
trying to unmask yourself,
only to find a second mask behind it.
Love is,
a pile of ungranted wishes,
never coming true.
Love is,
a second of eternity,
an eternity of seconds.
Love is,
wishing upon stars,
falling for naiveties.
Love is,
eating poisoned apples,
one bite after the next.
Love is,
about rainy days,
and thinking they're romantic.
Love is,
about trying to hold on,
trying to not let go.
Love is,
about missing puzzle pieces,
and never finding them.
Love is,
chasing the stars,
forgetting who we are.
Love is,
the colours on the wall,
because you painted it.
Love is,
a masquerade,
and vandalised desks.
Love is,
spilled secrets,
and stolen memories.
Love is,
perhaps,
and maybes.
Love is,
a painful silence,
shattered dreams.
Love is,
hanging yourself on the tree,
while holding her hands.
Love is,
not saying a word,
not feeling a thing.
Love is,
an imaginary girl,
and her withering wings.
Love is,
about pictures telling a story,
and how it ends.
Love is,
once upon many times,
and monochromed fairy tales.
Love is,
Iced cherries,
having a fight.
Love,
was never you,
nor me.
Merry Christmas,
my dear,
because love isn't.
`love is.
Third time trying to write a 'Love is..'
Not very good as you can see because it's late into the night,
and I'm really, running dry of inspirations.
Can't think of anything good these days.
I'm squeezing everything I can think of.
It's not wholly my concept of love,
because it's very different for very many people,
but at least it can apply for a bit.
I think.
Good night.
I'd love to know what love is.