warm coffee, broken glass, evening sun. love.

love is warm coffee placed on the table during family conversation. the bitter taste of love hides the truth that no one really speaks to understand, they speak for caution, anything to blur out pressures and expectation. you see, love can be broken glass, placed within every smile you don’t notice from afar. love can be disguised as poetic metaphors that remind us of how much the stars love the moon. but they forget to tell us that the moon disappears during the month, that the stars don’t appear some nights. that love, isn’t always love. love is messy, chaotic, mistaken for hope and replaced by fear. love resides in those cold nights of a hospital ward, longing to fix the hearts that have fought internal war. love sits on the tongue of those who wish goodbye to whom they adore, when love tasted less like the sadness from before but more like peace for what is yet to arrive. often, love balances between learning to breathe and struggling to breathe. that’s the complicated thing about love, you see. sometimes, love comes in and common sense flies out of the window. love isn’t this grand destination, it’s a simple journey of tranquility of finding the good in every bad. it’s taking the uncertainty with both hands and embracing it. love sometimes feels like empty spaces where you search for light where light hides. as if there are hollows buried deep in your soul that hold it close, never wanting to let it go. love is watching the serenity of the evening sun, letting every dark thought collapse at dusk so that you can start again by dawn. love is concealed within every prayer, words longing for the sweet taste of reassurance, for comfort and forgiveness. maybe, love is everything we’re all searching for.

                                                    ~maysablogs