betrayal | The Life, the Light, the Tears, of the Poet of the Sphere

I can still remember the first time that I was stung by a bee,
I can still feel the pain that started at my left arm
that then spread throughout my entire body;
I can still taste the tears that welled up in my eyes,
rolled down my cheeks, and found there way into my mouth;
I can still see what it was that put a smile on my face afterwards,
and what soon returned me to full-health.

It is fair to say that I had a lot of crushes while growing up-
“love” was a word that I heard all the time,
but it wasn’t until I saw a girl that I cared about kissing my best friend
that I felt and I saw what love was close-up.
It was a strange, painful, and an unfamiliar, feeling at the time-
I can still see them both, even after all these years,
in each others embrace, as I stood staring at them
as if they were in that moment something divine.
Unfortunately, after I saw them,
my mind became flooded with feelings of hurt, jealousy, and betrayal-
I thought that I was going to cry,
because my emotions were over-full.
To this day, I still say that the moment I first felt my heart break
hurt more than any bee sting, ever-
it is a pain that changes you from head to toe,
and I would wish it on no one, never.

It wasn’t until years later that I concluded that
that first heart-shattering moment was the tell-tale sign
that I had fallen in love;
it wasn’t until I had fallen over and over, again and again,
into the beautiful ocean of wonder
that were the eyes of someone who I cared the world for
that I understood that being in love was what fitted me like a glove.

I love to love, I love what love does to me,
I love who I am when I am in love,
and I love that the person that I love never stops inspiring me.
I still get intoxicated when a certain person talks to me,
or enters the same room-
it is everything about them: their voice, their face, their smile,
their eyes, that intoxicates me- more than any spirit, or perfume.

People say that love is blind.
They say that love can make you crazy, mad,
that there isn’t a manual for perfection,
and that love never goes to plan-
and I would have to agree;
but love, to me, is the best thing in the world,
and if you have to be mad to feel it,
then call me a mad man.