Love Determines

I’m not poor.

I’m not terminally ill.

My mother doesn’t lay in her vomit

My father doesn’t slip into my bed at night.

In fact, my parents are together.

My life is seemingly alright.

I have a bed, a fridge full,

I have two working arms and

Two legs that fall limp under me.

Underneath the pressure.

Underneath the boiling tears

And boiling needs to create

 Fictional characters to call friends.

I mean, Robin Williams committed suicide

And his life was seemingly alright.

The burning desire to feel the razor’s edge

Against your flushed wrist never came with

Being poor or being sick or being abused.

It comes with life; wealthy, popular, healthy

We’re all lost.

We all have a passion to be loved and feel loved

I don’t care if your house has thirty rooms or one,

We thrive off love.

I don’t care if you have a hundred years left

Or maybe just a few days, we all want love.

The heart is a being within a being that thrives

Off the love it receives and dies from the love

It never sees.

Daughters seek love from underneath dirty sheets

Because their fathers never told them they were

Worthy and beautiful and important.

Love determines whether the heart thrives

Or whether it shrivel and dies or whether

It just simply exists. Feeling nothing

But a hollowness.

Love determines so much more than we allow.