Love is not hard nor great.

It is real.

 

To have the love of my life hide what they feel.

To have a spark inside explode whenever I dance.

To survive because I really cannot.

 

No one could tell me to move on.

And no one could tell me I cannot fly to New York.

No one understands the pain that I have asked for.

 

Because no one can embrace their own sin with kindness and love.

For I can still hear his voice from the stars above.

His silence echoed words that were deemed too ugly to speak of.

 

Our eyes have stared at the ceilings for days.

Why can't we just walk the plank and forget... He'd say.

Because its more than society's definition of a boyfriend... I would have to say

 

This love was designed to be bent yet strong.

Even the wise begin to scorn.

The sympathetic are no where to b found.

But that's real life..........

 

The way I feel when I take a trip to the successful me.

Where I escape from the horror unbearable.

Where I laugh all my problems away.

And smile as my method of cope.

Yet not where roses and chocolates lay a trail.

For I have to cope because of it.

 

For now, Love and success cannot fly on the same flight.

But hey, that's real life.

 

If I just flew away from the painful states of life.

Then my life would no longer be a distinct source of identity.

It's the simple nature of someone else's reality.

It's the price we both pay to have a love unconditionally.