victims of love

Love is predator; we are prey,
leaving no survivors, sparing no victims.
For some, love comes easily –
falling in and out day to week, month to year,
many suitors in a lifetime.
Others, content to be loved by one.
Some long for love,
others carry burdens of love from too many.
Some too willing to settle
for anyone,
others wracked with constrained emotion,
waiting for a one and only.
We’re not all loved out loud.
But love, however it may come,
gives us something to believe in.
Something real.
That reality consumes our every notion and deed
to the point of hating that we love someone
or merely the thought of a someone,
someone we’ve loved all along,
someone we can’t get over,
or someone we haven’t crossed paths with just yet.
Sleepless nights in lonely beds,
pillows caked with thoughts, tears, hope, and prayers,
while thick bedroom walls smile at files of secrets.
Stories of meeting and falling
are common, yet tenderly unique.
We may believe that love always comes
as a knight mounted on white horse at the opportune moment
when the deserving,
having waited so long for a rescue,
is about to give up.
But i believe more often than not,
love jumps at us unexpectedly in moments
when we start to fall little by little
unknowingly
more and more
until it’s too late
to break the
strategically
secret
connection.