I feel like all I write about
is love—
or lack thereof.

But I mean—
what else am I supposed to write about
when everyone’s chasing after
this fictional feeling
that everybody talks about
when they “find the one”?

I don’t believe it.
I don’t believe it.

Now—
you gotta step back
and see how the other perceives it.

Is it a sneaky link situation?
Do you have to fall back
while they sit there
laughing?

Do you have to worry about other girls
other guys
while they sit here
ruining a vision of love
in your eyes?

Let’s be real—

This is what love is now.
We’ve normalized it.
It is toxic.
It is messy.

There is no real love.
It’s just lust.
There is no real love.
It’s just linking up.
There is no real love.
It’s just wanting to ****—
and saying whatever it takes
to get them to “pull up.”

But me?

I want that old-school love—
the kind where fights
don’t end in breaking up.

Even through the bad—
we’d stick together
because we knew
our love would protect us.

Any storm—
any bad weather—
if we could talk it out,
it would get better.

We built that foundation—
through worse
and through better.

I hate what they’ve done to love.
They made us believe
anybody who comes through
with a charming smile—
that’s where the love would be.

But this ain’t no fairytale.
This is real.

I want that old-school Black love—
cocoa-butter-warm,
nice-smelling love,
just-dancing-in-the-living-room-as-the-sky-rains kind of love.

There’s no connection—
just convenience.

Love is just
a monetary thing.

And me?
I’m still looking for that
old-school love
that makes that one person feel like home—
not a random pit stop
chasing the high of lust.

I’ll keep believing
in that love—
because even if the world
forgot how to give it—
I won’t

They don’t tell you

 love sometimes feels like 

drowning in promises.
Love shouldn’t feel like begging.

I miss when love wasn’t a game.

I miss when this relationship

felt like dancing in the rain—

slow,

and sweet.
Back then,

it was nothing but love in our eyes,

as your arms wrapped around mine

in the middle of any storm.

Feet splashing,

locked eyes,

like nothing in this world,

or any other,

mattered.
We used to laugh at the thunder—

we thought storms were just background noise.

Like we were untouchable.

Like we could survive anything

as long as we held on to each other.
But now?

Every day is thunderstorms.

Every day is pain.

And you cause it.
The one who claimed to love me

is the one who hurt me.
It’s crazy—

you once held my hand 

as we danced in that cold,

sweet-smelling rain.
And now?

Those same hands

let me drown

in a freezing,

dark,

empty ocean.
You left me.

 Alone. 

No life jacket.

No warning.

Just the ocean

and your silence.
Like saying:

“If I’m not here,

then you shouldn’t be able

to even put up a fight.”
So I sank
.
As the freezing, relentless waves

crashed into me—

again,

and again,

and again.
Your body pressed against mine

as we shared that loving gaze...
Then I snap back to reality—
we’ll never be the same.
You left me to drown.
And now,

I no longer have you

 to dance in the rain.
And I don’t know what hurts more—

the drowning,

or the fact that

I still miss dancing in the rain.

I was always
the type of girl
who never gave a ****.

Would fall in love so fast
but yeah,
I would always give it up.

And you?
You were the type
to see that love in my eyes.

Came in disguised
as someone
who was supposed to be mine.

I really loved that about you.
But you switched up like the weather.

You went from hot to cold,
from “I love you”
to “whatever.”

And it didn’t take long
for that cycle to spin.

Tears on my behalf,
while you sat there with a grin.

I think you knew what you were doing.
This ain’t your first time.

First time you saw
a girl with true love in her eyes.

But one thing about me?
I get bored very easy.

Bored of the back-and-forth,
the stomach turns,
the feeling-queasy kind of love
that never sits easy.

You knew what you were doing.
Let’s be honest.

It wasn’t even my fight,
was it?

You just saw another girl
with true love in her eyes

Another girl
for your love to disguise.

When you do it, it’s cool.
Okay.
But when she does, it’s “whack”?

Now it’s every other day,
you arguing,
putting **** on your dad.

The love bombs.
The switching up.
The back-and-forth.
The feeling queasy.

You made it feel
like you could push
all your problems
on me.

Like the minute I showed love,
your life was supposed to get easy.

But I’m not doing that.
Not anymore.

You dumped
every insecurity on me—
and watched me drown
in wounds that weren’t even mine.

You pushed all your insecurities out to me
and now,
I’m finally stepping back

And that’s when
you finally started acting right.

But that didn’t last,
now did it?

I’d be lying if I said
I left the first time
or the second
or even the third.

Because you?
You always had the right words
the ones that pulled me back
into being her.

That girl.
The one with true love in her eyes.
Those eyes
you once tried so hard
to hide from your disguise.

But this time…
was the last time
she let you dim that love
in her eyes.