You tell me I am too much, as if your heart were a forbidden place, locked away
You tell me “I am too much,” as if your heart were a forbidden place, locked away,
As if feeling deeply were a wound that refuses to close beneath the vast sky.
But, darling, I crave the storm in you, the tempest hidden within your secret chest,
That wild, unbridled surge of emotions no one else dares to confront or embrace.
Let me drown in your chasms, wade through the deep shades of your silence,
Trace the flimsy map of your bruises, run my fingers over every indented rim,
Each splintered shard where the light has seeped out, yet beauty shines beyond despair.
If your love is a battlefield, then call me to arms, let me fight with desire and passion,
If it’s a fire, let me be consumed until only ash remains, a complete burning of my soul.
I have always yearned for a place fierce enough, raw enough,
A place that dares to measure the depth of what I feel,
A place that tests if my heart can stand unbroken,
Even in the heart of your storm, amidst your unrefined emotions.
And in this stream of consciousness, where thoughts flow like rivers of untamed desires,
I find myself floating among your waves, seeking to discover the true essence of love,
Where fear and courage entwine in a dance of shadows and eternal light,
Wondering if I will ever find a harbor in your storm, a refuge in your tumult.
But perhaps it is in this chaos of your emotions that I find beauty,
A beauty that cannot be tamed, that burns brighter than any setting star,
Drawing me in, like a dream that refuses to end, a dream that calls me back,
To lose myself and find myself again in your storm, to become a storm myself.
Copyright ©
Dan Enache
|