What do I name this?

  What is it that I’m even trying to name?

  The words I’m writing? Perhaps it is,

  But, no, this is no easy feat

  Putting a name on these words,

  Such a task requires more than I’m sure I have

  What I write is my own, and what I have learned,

  Is labels have limits, my own words do not

  For my words are my heart, my soul, my mind,

  My blood, my sleep, my bread and water

  To squeeze what I feel under one umbrella and bind

  With one word, I’d rather it soak

  One word. One word.

  Since when did it have to be one word?

  When did the hearts of men cease loving at large

  And obsess over brief and barren claims?

  Claims of love, if you can call it that

  Comparing the words of today with love

  Would be like comparing a shoelace to a hat

  I’d be spitting on the grave of love if I called it that

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Love exceeds all barriers of time

  It reaches further than the farthest star

  And brightens the corners where no light shines

  Corners where I sit and enjoy the heat it brings

  Love is waking up and seeing the mountains

  When it was too dark to see when you arrived

  Love is sitting alone in the darkest woods

  With only the silence to hug your ears

  Love is seeing the ground from way too far up

  Love is lying upside down in bed just because

  Love is hiding in bushes for the thrill of hiding

  Love is the very silk all things are woven from

  And oh, did I know love best

  When she first walked into my life, a welcome guest

  Her laugh, her smile, her hair, her eyes

  Have drained my heart and charred my mind

  I can’t sleep at night, for when I drift away

  And close my eyes, her face still shines

  The words she says, they bond and blur

  And turn to a mirage of her

  When her eyes catch mine, my insides whine

  With hunger I can’t satisfy

  The way her eyes crease when she laughs

  The way she subtly tilts her head when I talk

  The way she listens and understands like no other

  What people forgot about love

  How ironic.

  I refuse one word, or even two

  My title should be long and tedious

  Like my love, for what I write is my own

  And labels have limits, my own words do not