Feb 27

A Different Kind of Love

I love with my hands
When my heart has nothing left to give.
I reach out to those flailing on the edge of  a distant darkness
That threatens to swallow them up.
My scarred hands hold them
And my calluses mold their memories
Into hope and possibilities.

I love with my head
When my hands have slipped away.
I love thoughts and odd little quirks that  bubble to the surface of the world.
I love crafting words into their shapes
And spilling thousands of ideas into the unprinted universe
Only to have them inked there forever.

I love with my spirit
When my thoughts become muddled.
My passion loves the world and tendrils of my dreams drift into depression.
I love without question because everything deserves a chance
To show its magic and beauty.

But you say I do not love you.
I did love you once long ago.
But you broke my heart into a thousand shimmering pieces with your harsh words.
And now a new love is growing
About the Author: LadyMidnight
"There is nothing to writing. All you have to do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." - Ernest Hemmingway