I long for love…
Not just a romantic relationship,
but something deep, intimate, and rare.
I long for love…
A love that is fierce, a love that is hard,
a love that leaves a little piece of itself
on every scar.
I long for love…
Not the kind that is always easy and calm,
but the kind that brings storms and havoc,
the kind that makes a mess of me
and still feels like where I belong.
I long for love…
A love that knows me, not just admires me.
A love that sees through me,
even when I don't let it.
A love that aches.
A love that burns.
I long for love…
The kind that makes me a hopeless romantic,
lovesick and stupid,
smiling at my phone for no reason
and rereading the same text a hundred times.
A love that makes me blush at messages,
that gives me something to daydream about,
that makes me want to write poems at two in the morning.
I long for love…
Not just phone calls and messages,
but handwritten letters,
flowers for no reason,
voice notes and songs.
More than dates and dinners,
I want forehead kisses and held hands,
your fingers tangled in my hair,
gently fixing it,
tucking the loose strands behind my ear.
And I want to pretend it's nothing
when, really, I'll probably think about it all day.
More than shopping and movies,
I want beaches and long drives,
valleys and cloudy skies,
stargazing until we lose track of time,
talking about everything and nothing
as if there's nowhere else we need to be.
I want us sharing one umbrella in the rain,
both getting half-soaked.
I want to fall asleep watching you on FaceTime,
messy hair, sleepy face,
without feeling the need to look pretty,
without wondering if you'll still find me cute.
I want a love that makes me fall,
and fall, and fall again,
and never feel like a fool for falling.
Aarzooo
Not just a romantic relationship,
but something deep, intimate, and rare.
I long for love…
A love that is fierce, a love that is hard,
a love that leaves a little piece of itself
on every scar.
I long for love…
Not the kind that is always easy and calm,
but the kind that brings storms and havoc,
the kind that makes a mess of me
and still feels like where I belong.
I long for love…
A love that knows me, not just admires me.
A love that sees through me,
even when I don't let it.
A love that aches.
A love that burns.
I long for love…
The kind that makes me a hopeless romantic,
lovesick and stupid,
smiling at my phone for no reason
and rereading the same text a hundred times.
A love that makes me blush at messages,
that gives me something to daydream about,
that makes me want to write poems at two in the morning.
I long for love…
Not just phone calls and messages,
but handwritten letters,
flowers for no reason,
voice notes and songs.
More than dates and dinners,
I want forehead kisses and held hands,
your fingers tangled in my hair,
gently fixing it,
tucking the loose strands behind my ear.
And I want to pretend it's nothing
when, really, I'll probably think about it all day.
More than shopping and movies,
I want beaches and long drives,
valleys and cloudy skies,
stargazing until we lose track of time,
talking about everything and nothing
as if there's nowhere else we need to be.
I want us sharing one umbrella in the rain,
both getting half-soaked.
I want to fall asleep watching you on FaceTime,
messy hair, sleepy face,
without feeling the need to look pretty,
without wondering if you'll still find me cute.
I want a love that makes me fall,
and fall, and fall again,
and never feel like a fool for falling.
Aarzooo
