The Truth About Love

By Vaishavi Ashokkumar Oza

Dear,

Please don't think that love is complicated, 

It's not but rather the people we choose to love, make it complicated.

Love was never meant to be a battlefield, 

Never meant to leave scars, where warmth should have been.

It was supposed to be a quiet place, 

Where two souls rest without fear of breaking.

But sometimes, we love the wrong hands, 

Hands that shake, hands that let go too soon, Hands that were never meant to hold something as delicate as love.

And in their grasp, love becomes chaos, love becomes pain,

And we begin to believe - wrongly - that love itself is cruel

But love is not complicated,

It is as simple as the morning sun, as certain as the tide.

It is we, the wounded, the hesitant, the afraid,

 who twist it into something it was never meant to be.

Perhaps love was always patient, always kind, waiting for the right souls to understand it.

And maybe, just maybe, one day;

 you will see —

Love was never the storm,,

it was always meant to be the shelter.

By Vaishavi Ashokkumar Oza