Love ain't what you think.

If it doesn't make you feel immortal,
it ain't love.
If it doesn't make you feel as if you can swim a thousand miles for a kiss,
it ain't love.
If it doesn't make your heart clench with fear when you see "We need to talk."
It ain't love.
If it doesn't break you to see them break,
it ain't love.
If you don't feel like showing them off,
it ain't love.
If you don't feel as if you're the luckiest person on this galaxy,
Then, no sweetie, then it ain't love.
Love isn't measured by PDA or texts.
It measured, that's why it is love.
Love ain't easy.
It is a path of thorns where you go for the sweet release to numbness.
So is it worth it?

Destruction in disguise.

I'm the silence after a talk.
I'm satisfaction.
I'm the ocean which wears away the sand.
I'm anarchy.
I'm the air of the atmosphere, which
either breaks havoc or nourishes.
I'm naissance.
I'm the cream in your coffee.
I'm improvement.
I'm the cherry on top of the cake.
I'm the best part.
I'm the first rays of Sun, giving light to the world.
I'm the statue of hope.
But most importantly,
I'm a women.
I can be the glue.
Or destruction in disguise.

Keep Dreaming!