What I wrote was:
I believe in you
The beauty you see in the art and the speeches of those heroes of yours - it’s your beauty too. You love it because you recognise your greatness. Look at yourself. You are magnificent.
I love you immensely. I’ve loved you more every day I’ve known you.
I’m in awe of you. The grace you walk the world with is more divine than human.
It’s all true, I don’t lie.
However.
What I didn’t write was:
If I wrote another million poems they still wouldn’t be enough to paint an accurate picture of what you do to my Soul just by existing.
Life has become a greater adventure since you’ve been here, and I can’t imagine not spending all of it with you.
I spent a whole day thinking about being married to you, and I wish you saw it too because it was beautiful.
Baby. My love. Come rest here a minute. I can feel your head going crazy over something that is beneath you and it breaks my heart.
You are a King. An Angel. The place where my heart rests when I can’t even be with myself.
I don’t know what the future holds and I’m afraid. I wish you were here. I wish you traveled to pick up this puddle of confusion that I am, and make love to my chaos until it births something.
About the Creator
Giulia Viti
🐻 Poet • Wild Hag 𓅣
I use this account to try new things with my writing ✨
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis4 days ago in Humans
Comments (3)
Awww, this was just so sweet and lovely! I'm sooooo in love with it!
Powerful emotions set to sentences! This kind of chemistry would have been so much better if included in the high school curriculum...
This was a beautiful articulation of what it feels to love someone…I felt this in my heart ❤️