Where does love go when love ends?
Do you look for it in that toothbrush left behind? Or in the spine of the book placed face down, half-read. Do you breathe it in from fast fading fragrances on clothes, or think you glimpsed it in a passing blur on the street.
Where does love go when love ends?
Does it come alive in a song or do the words of a quote dance for you. Is it that sigh that gets away before you can catch it or that liquid smile that escapes your eye?
Where does love go when love ends?
Does it pop out from the crevices you thought you had buried it beneath, or does it jump out at you in the form of numbers on a calendar? It is the crease that mars your brows or the cuticle that is ripped and raw.
Where does love go when love ends?
Is it in the rage that makes you scream, or in the regret that simmers within? Do you try to find it in the time you lost, or rifle through the memories calculating the cost?
Where does love go when love ends?
Love, when it ends, finds a place deep within your darkness and curls up there. Weary, aching, companionless. It stays there, licking its wounds, repairing its feathers till it can fly and find its way back into your heart and soul again.
I believe, true love always kinda stays with us