Take the Pain Out of Love and Love Won't Exist.

Dear Love,
I keep looking for you trying to confirm your existence. Because I feel nothing. Are you real? Because I see you in the eyes of couples everywhere walking. But do you exist for me? How can I look for something I don't believe in?

Is there somebody else laying in bed watching their ceiling fan spin too slowly wondering if being alone is better than knowing for certain that love does exist and it is beyond reach? Does he have perfect hands? Is his voice soothing and melodic? Does he write to you too?

Love, are you well thought out or sporadic? Are you here and then gone, like the blink of an eye? Are you ever-lasting and never changing? Are you Hide-and-Seek or Red Rover? You are absent. I don't believe in you until you prove you exist.

I've got the scars to prove I'm actually here.
Maybe that's why you hurt so much?


You don't exist.
You don't exist.
You don't exist.
I am bleeding.
Again.