I think people spend too much time staring into screens and not enough time drinking wine, tongue kissing, and dancing under the moon.

That’s why so many people live without love. They talk about love, but they live without love. They fantasize about love, but they never actualize love because to actualize love means you will have to destroy yourself utterly.

I wanna be a chapter in your book of love.

I still remember how it was before and I am holding back the tears no more. I love you.

It starts like this: She’s sitting across from you, and you’re watching her Like you may never see her again. You study her every detail in hopes of burning The shape of her lips and the curve of her face Into your memory, but you know the minute you look away, She will become a blurred outline of the girl you remembered. It’s like you spent so much time Painting this perfect picture of her, and the moment You step away, you plunge the canvas underwater, And the paint rises and it falls apart. She’s no longer perfect. But who are you kidding? You never were an artist So it starts like this: She’s sitting across from you, And you’re sitting across from her. Take a deep breath, because it ends like this: You’ll look down at your hands, And they’ll be covered with the colors that she was. And she’ll stand up and she will walk away from you, And your hands will be clean, And it’s not her fault that she never wanted to paint And it’s not your fault that that you don’t have a damn clue How to hold a brush. Some things just are, and with her, You are not.