When Love Calls

I realized that I could never have things the way I wanted them.

The stark reality assaulted my being, smacked me in the face, twisted my arms and pulled my hair.

I tried to fight back, scream, even cry out for help but found it useless...

Love had taken a hold of me, shook my senses loose and left me limp, lifeless, emotionally exposed.

But I liked it.

I craved it.

I wanted to overdose on it.

Bathe myself in it as if it were a hot bath of lavender and soothing salts.

It's left me intoxicated, sleep deprived, but I want more.

I want to turn it into a warm blanket of chenille and drape it across my shoulders.

Take a photo of love and carry it in my back pocket or stick it on the cushioned walls of my cubicle.

I want love to always be there like the birthmark in the iris of my eye.

I want to find comfort in the pain that it brings when we just can't have our way.

When love calls, I want it to shout my name and always remain.