March 10, 2016

Our Love Story. {Poem}

love heart write paper

I mean to write to heal,

letting time pass in the

stringing together of thoughts as words

reasonably emotional,




I mean to write to heal,

but surely I am not mending my heart

but burrowing into the contours

of its wounds.


Each description of each memory

like shards of glass,

fragments of us

that make no more sense on paper

than they do in the vessel

from which I pull them.




It’s all there for me to feel,

and until I have, I cannot heal.


Until I have sat in those depths

and listened to the pulsating

rhythm of my repressed hurt,




God, each word would satisfy so

much more sweetly

if directly to your ears,

if they were to coax out your response–




I’ll call out again that I love you.

I’ll write again of tangled bodies,

unsealed lips

and the most gentle fingertips.

Of fears.

Of truths.


I’ll detail the wisdom

my heart has acquired in

being willing to lose your love

again and again

and write because I know it is not lost at all.

Too potent.



Your love will linger

beneath the scars,

and pulse with my blood,

a part of my being that

there are no words for,

a story that has written itself and

ends exactly as it is supposed to.

In love.

In gratitude.


The greatest love stories are timeless.


Author: Tiffany Anderson

Editor: Khara-Jade Warren

Image: DancingWaters97/ DeviantArt


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Tiffany Anderson