Completely Obsessed with Love

I was deeply wrapped inside of love and now as I feel the absence of this depth I am able to sense it’s pointlessness. Stop there.
don’t start to think negative.
Don’t scream at me about pointlessness.
For I will scream back that loving to the point of obsession will manifest into darkness anyway.

To believe in the bliss of love without pain is a child’s white lie veiled in emptiness.
The absence of truth is not falsehood, just as knowing has no more conviction than playing pretend.
I notice this as I speak, each word losing its meaning as it presses into your ear.
My words masquerading as some sort of ally I’ve never met.
Clever tricks that are played to force me into your one dimensional truth.

Can I say?
“In fueling this fire I have found despair”.
Without you assuming a recuse.
Can you understand?
It’s not a type of despair that brings sorrow but the type that secures you back in place.
A type of prison misunderstood for grounding.

Do you find this sad?
Stop there.
I am no different than before.
My transformation was undoubtably only inside my mind.
And now I find myself speaking in terms of my own understanding
maybe it’s not meant for you.
Regardless, I let my words extend past my lips, and as only a fool
I convince myself into believing that they find solace inside of your mind.

I have traveled and the difference has been made pointless.
For I am,
obsessed with love.
Ask yourself,
what is love without it’s opposite?
Allow me to boldly declare
It is blind.
Love without suffering lacks passion.
It lacks universal balance.
Love.
It’s the yin and the yang
it’s the day and the night
it’s the polarity of existence.
Having one without the other is never knowing either in it’s entirety.
Love has been given a deceitful name.
Don’t play the fool, chasing picture perfect pointlessness.