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Student @ Babcock University
Gasping For Love. Choking on sand
<p>"Roses are red."</p><p>As if roses only come in one colour.</p><p>Violets are supposed to be blue.</p><p>They do not even sound blue!</p><p>We swallowed these phrases like medicine we never questioned.</p><p>Gasping.</p><p>Choking.</p><p>Trying to breathe inside something they called air.</p><p>I have watched people fall for it.</p><p>Eyes glazed, hearts handed over like gifts with no return policy.</p><p>They cling to words like lifelines.</p><p>"Forever". </p><p>"Soulmate". </p><p>"Meant to be".</p><p>Yet all I hear are the empty spaces</p><p>between those syllables.</p><p>Promises that smell sweet</p><p>then rot the moment you touch them.</p><p>Love they say, is supposed to change you.</p><p>I say it is overhyped.</p><p>Overdone.</p><p>Rotten at first touch.</p><p>It is coffee turned to dust at the bottom of the mug.</p><p>The song we always skip but never delete.</p><p>The shadow of a hug brushing past my shoulder.</p><p><br/></p><p>I tried it once.</p><p>Just to know.</p><p>It tasted like glitter and sand.</p><p>Shiny enough to look beautiful</p><p>but impossible to swallow without choking.</p><p>So now I am done with the stories, the clichés and the lies we dress up and call romance.</p><p>The grand gestures.</p><p>The breathless promises.</p><p>All that noise fading into something distant,</p><p>like static on a radio you stopped trying to tune.</p><p>I choose the real world.</p><p>Where roses are every colour they want.</p><p>Where violets do not need permission to exist.</p><p>And love…</p><p>love is whatever you make it.</p><p>Or in my case, </p><p>Nothing.</p>
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