not about love.

i can’t talk about love. most days I don’t even know what it means. I can’t talk about love because I don’t have room for all the space it takes up inside of me. so let’s start with something small- something simpler, something inconsequential. I can’t talk about love, let’s talk about the weather. forecast shows sunny skies with a high chance of summer rains. the winds have been heavy but these days they just feel like a tight embrace. even the coldest dawns get warmer when I spend them with you. I can’t talk about love but I know that sunlight is the smile on your face and lately I can taste the morning dew on my tongue. damn you. I keep telling myself I won’t fall- humans are such inherently flawed creatures and every time I hope someone won’t break my heart they do just that and yet here I am. again. lying down in an empty patch of grass during a thunderstorm and smiling like a mad man. damn you, and your pretty eyes and hands that dance when you talk. damn the lower register of your voice and your crooked smile and the way you slightly tilt your head when you’re confused. i can’t talk about love but I can’t stop talking about you and isn’t it all the same? the world is ending and everything is on fire and lately I find myself blushing for no reason at all. I can’t talk about love because I can’t tell you how it feels (it hurts) or what it does to me (you drive me insane). but it’s here. love, in it’s ever immeasurable glory, is right here- its weight tugging at my chest like a spoilt child to a mother’s dress, loud, stubborn, demanding to be seen. love is the melody always playing in the back- to acknowledge it would mean to surrender to its whims, and I’m too terrified for that sort of thing. so let us talk about anything else. let’s just talk about the weather instead. with you here it’s always spring.