Something stolen like that has to be remade or returned. It has to be taken & reinspired or it has to be reciprocated. One, the other or some. But not none.
It wasn’t love meant for me. & broken-hearted, I come to accept this.
Let it multiply in quantum even when you can’t feel it.
You can take that love & do something splendourous with it.
I hoped some form of friendship, love could find me in my sickness. I have arrived on my own, that’s how I’ll leave.
Sometimes love is a gift given. A gift received. Sometimes it is taken. & I have to accept that.
Sometimes love is about the taking & in the end in the midst of the circles of things, you leave yourself to be. You push yourself away & you hold yourself close until you can make it again.
© Niliema Karkhanis