INSIDE THIS MADNESS

“I sat on a gray stone bench / and placed my grief / in the mouth of language, / the only thing that would grieve with me.”

It was the midnight shift and the man working the gas station told me he had been looking for me, for a while now.

Researchers find Physical Differences in Empathetic Peoples' Brains

I keep hearing that “love is a verb”. People say that words mean nothing when it comes to love. As if I looking into your eyes and telling you means nothing. You won’t believe it unless I do something. A grand gesture. That laying my soul on the floor for you isn’t enough. Tearing open my heart and having the ink spill out of me, as I write you the most beautiful letter, rewritten 100’s of times, taken months to configure - that can’t be love, love apparently, isn’t words. Because actions speak louder than words, correct? Unless I shout it from the rooftops, Unless I buy you every flower that blooms, peonies, in every color that exists, blue, pink perhaps white.. Unless I buy you a ring with “ I love you” engraved around the circle of your finger, then I know you love me. Does that mean you love me? Does that mean love is true? I can’t help but think that has nothing to do with love. Look me in my eyes, and tell me why you love me. Use your words, your body, your touch. You can move in with someone, that could just be a test. Does that lead to a diamond and a future of happiness and success? Will he love you when you no longer look like you? When the wrinkles peek in, and you’re too tired to make love, and all you can do is say it? love is looking at me and knowing what I was feeling. love is laying together, in silence. love is carrying me to my door when my ankle was broken. love was the way we talked all night till the sun came up love was in our eyes. you didn’t have to buy me the world, or a blue box - Sunflowers were a beautiful touch I must say. but love was when you drove out of your way.. to see me. It was when we went to the beach and played in the sand. the feeling, the connection, the indescribable way we always find a way back. So our love wasn’t just a verb, our love wasn’t superficial, our love was the ones in movies, written in books, the one we keep our eyes closed to keep it alive. our love was the way we selfishly broke each other.. because time wasn’t on our side. our love was more than a verb.