No, He Loves Me, Maybe Not

A definition for love logically never existed as like

God it allegedly inhabits our world though no one can touch it

Feel it

Or see it yet, somehow all humans developed a general conclusion

And faith at the concept that the falsification of such a term did not occur as like gravity,

People test it each day and continue to acknowledge that it spreads in the velocity of the wind

Differing types of love swelling the hearts of those foolish enough to garner the emotion

Though difficult to differentiate between

Platonic, romantic, familial,

Those you love from afar,

And those you love from the distance of your arms wrapping around them in a deep embrace,

I know I never experienced a true feeling of the aforementioned yet I know what it does not look like

I know love does not stem from material possession as when you plant a thought

And words of encouragement,

It grows beautiful establishments and achievements that cannot sprout from an

iPhone or a television

I know love does not consist of the complacent nature where the world tramples over you

Like an elementary school corridor filled of running students excited

To venture back inside after an eventful recess

With mud coating the soles of their feet

I know love does not leave room for the normalization of abuse

With forgiveness for the unforgivable flowing as easy as if for a person who forgot to hold a door open

Or the motherfucker who cut you off in a traffic lane.

Love does not facilitate temporary disdain for those who slain your name

And cast nothing upon you but shame leaving marks that last forever.

I know love did not ever harvest itself in a reincarnation of the world instilling a lack of in my family

Yet it did showcase how dictionaries lie.

As no definition properly captivates love

But easily one can recognize the cold absence of such.