I wrote a lot of poetry as an outlet. I used to never share it, except with a few close personal friends.
I love you more than anything.
I trust you more than anyone.
I’d do almost anything for you.
It feels like an eternity.
And I’ve been happy.
You don’t have to be perfect.
You can make mistakes.
You don’t have to live up to all my dreams.
I am never perfect, or without my own.
You just have to love me.
You have make up for falls.
You make new dreams.
You do it all with me.
But can you love me, like I love you?
Can you mend my broken hearts?
Am I love enough for you, for anything?
If I cannot trust you, who can I trust?
If I cannot not love you, will I love like this again?
There’s no one in the world, quite like you.
I wish for love beyond all love.
A passion without a limit.
One comparable only to mine.
A love with only you.