Incongruent heart

Heart, why do you give yourself away without a hand to take it?

Heart, why can you not seem to comprehend love is more than what you make it?

Heart, you're friendlier than me.

Heart, tell me your secrets, tell me how you love so easily.

You. Yes, eyes reading,

speeding,

feeding upon my thoughts and feelings.

My heart says hello and wants to have coffee.

This is a weird poem.

Nothing even rhymes with poem.

Let's get deep.

Heart, read em and weep. 

Wait for a hand to sweep me off my feet..

love is not a feeling

Love is not A FEELING. Instead, what I feel by my act of love is the affect of my love, or in some cases the result of being loved. But love should never be confused with an emotion, sensation or enjoyment. 

It is not the softness or simplicity of the object of affection that always compels us to give, but in fact the unyielding, undeserving, stubborn one that challenges us to choose to love. 

Love is often laborious and tiresome. It is by patient endurance that we are able to come into complete awareness of the selfless, painful, sacrificial and marvelous dimensions of this consuming love. Once we have been acquainted in this manner we become conscious of the outcome of our love; the ways in which we provoke goodness out of another by the means of our unwavering persistence. She may be rough, resistant and uncouth, but you will love her and love her, tell her she is gentle and sweet and love her more and more, challenge her prudish heart and untwine the complications of her reluctance; this is the ultimate function of love. 

If we are to love only those who reflect our love back and feed our greedy hearts on a feeling we are but a waste.

Love is NOT a feeling.