Rhythmic Love

Ever try to measure the extend of ones' love? When did it all begin? When did it crumble? Who decides on the pleasures of pain and brain or the victimized shame that extends from a broken heart?

Taking its first beat in utero at four weeks, a primitive heart takes its shape. 

 Connecting its existence to the brain, and preparing its design to tune your whole world around love. Whether you want it or not it will beat uninterrupted for the rest of your life. 

 So, don't waste its melody on the wrong song. 

<3

Reviews

[conversations with her ..]

I really enjoyed this poem, and I’m looking forward to reading more of your pieces.

I'm kind of new on here and it would be an honor if you can review my 4 new recent poems (The world is ours, Nostalgia, Paradise, and You) and others.

Thank you and Keep up the Good work!