When I was in Salamanca (Spain) in February through my solo travel, the temperature suddenly plummeted and snow fell heavily so I was confined to the cosy empty hostel for a day. I had hell of a lot of thinking time and I self-meditated. One of my thoughts was love in a relationship. Struggling to get to grips with my own definition on it after a controlling relationship 2 years ago, I splurged my feelings on a piece of paper. Here goes;
Mere thing called Love
What is this mere thing called Love?
Is it defined as a result of obsessiveness, strangulated and suffocated, concealed like a child’s voice amongst a sea of professionals?
Is it the obsession? The kind of evil hate retention? Taking a back seat burner on our dreams for the sake of attention?
Where is the fine line, where is the balance? Can love be defined as a prosperous talent?
Whatever the meaning is, whoever we are, this force so strong, bound to inflict a scar on this relentless journey, never seen from afar.
Do we use our heads? Or do we use our hearts? Tainted views overshadow the truth, cracked at the seams, washed up youth.
- Just to state, I never write poems so this is probably not the best line and presentation wise!
I have also have loadsss of pictures of my travels on my Instagram! @hanakafish