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Hiraeth

By Haley Ladawn All Rights Reserved ©

Poetry / Other

the kind of love

i’ve always wanted the kind of love that exists in fiction

the kind of love that breathes kisses of conviction and moments of pure indecision

but you just go with it

because as long as they’re the one’s leading you, they can take you anywhere

and you would never care

i’ve always wanted the kind of love that triumphants every hardship

no matter how big or small

the kind of love that gives you everything and then takes it all

because it’s just part of the fall

that’s why it’s called falling in love, right?

you’re waiting for the day that someone catches you

i’ve always wanted the kind of love where happily ever after resides

close to a bedside table where a story book lies

i would read it right before bed so the memory would stay fresh
you see

i’d rather dream of prince charming than something as alarming as being alone

i don’t remember when i started to hate my own company

but i can tell you that over the years it has grown

once a forgotten feeling, now as present as the air i’m breathing

when did i stop believing in myself?

it’s hard to tell

so i put my faith in something else and that something else is him

if i can’t love myself, i’d rather love him

over and over again

i’ve always wanted the kind of love that oozes “no, you hang up first!”

or the most beautiful verses to the most beautiful songs

the kind of love that feels both so right and so wrong

the kind of love that hypnotizes your eyes to not see the person’s face, but their soul instead

the kind of love that makes you feel alive when you’ve spent months feeling dead

alas, i’ve never received the kind of love that exists in fiction

my love life isn’t a sloppy copy because it’s never been written

at least not the way i wanted it to be

the thing they don’t tell you about love is that who you love might not love you back

they could be the sun you orbit around, while you’re just an asteroid to them

they could be the fire that warms you, while you’re just the cold chill that blows them out

that’s the kind of love that hurts the most

the unrequited love

it’s worse than fake love, to me at least

sure you were just an actor on a screen, but he was everything to me while i was nothing to him

and the sting of that truth hurts me time and time again

what could be worse than falling in love with a friend?

it’s not the kind of love i wanted

but it’s the kind of love i got

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