Yet another love poem

Hasn’t everything already been written about love?

I don’t know. You see,

Love isn’t just about all flowers and shit.

it ain’t about the dance, or the ring,

it’s not about the house, or the romance.

Love isn’t lavender,

It’s not poppies

Or tulips,

Or delicate white roses.

It’s not the flesh of that first kiss

It’s not when you lose your virginity

It’s not the oh so sweet taste of the beautiful maidenly breast

And it ain’t a battefield either

And you know what else? Love doesn’t always feel good. In fact sometimes it fucking hurts

Love is:

2 o’clock in the morning, when you’re wiping shit off a sick kid

Love is reaching outside of yourself

Love is learning how to say I’m sorry

And really meaning it

Love is learning from your mistakes

so you don’t make them again.

Love is being patient, it’s letting people make mistakes

Love is giving up something you want so someone else can have something they want

What I’m saying is:

Love is not a feeling

Love is not something that happens to you

Love is not something you find in a singles bar

as if somebody left it lying around to be picked up.

Love is not to be mistaken for lust, or that heady feeling you get when you’re infatuated

What I’m trying to say is: love is not a thing at all

It’s an action

Love isn’t something you find

It’s something you give

It’s not something you can lose,

it’s something you have to give away

Love isn’t giving a dollar to a homeless shelter.

It’s giving your name to a homeless person

Love doesn’t matter

Unless you do something about it