A Familiar Friend

Love is a familiar friend of mine.


I have an adoration for love. Yet I loathe love all at once.

Love is perched at the nook of my room, waiting to see who comes.

Love seeks people to fall for, and assures me who I am to trust.

I know love means no harm, but at times I find myself wanting nothing more than for love to disappear. For all my desires, to be mopped clean.


I long for the day to come, when love does not disappoint or leave me hurting here. For love is a familiar friend, that I hold to myself very dear.

by Noam


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