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Touch is the language of love
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I want to write poems on your skin with my lips❤️
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Has social media killed true romance?
Romance used to grow slowly. You talked, spent time, and invested in someone genuinely.
Commitment wasn't scary-it was part of getting to know someone deeply.
Now, everyone is "available" with a swipe, DM, or follow. Connections feel disposable. When it's easy to replace someone, effort drops.
Social media favors performance over authenticity. Likes and attention replace real intimacy.
Has it killed love? Not completely. But it's made true romance harder. Distraction, comparison, and temptation are constant-and most people choose the easy rush over real connection.
Romance used to grow slowly. You talked, spent time, and invested in someone genuinely.
Commitment wasn't scary-it was part of getting to know someone deeply.
Now, everyone is "available" with a swipe, DM, or follow. Connections feel disposable. When it's easy to replace someone, effort drops.
Social media favors performance over authenticity. Likes and attention replace real intimacy.
Has it killed love? Not completely. But it's made true romance harder. Distraction, comparison, and temptation are constant-and most people choose the easy rush over real connection.
I don't know where you are and who you are, but I don't want to find you in another universe. I don't want to meet you in a parallel galaxy, in the afterlife, or at another time.
I don't want you to be my what-if, my greatest love that got away, or my right-person-wrong time.
I want to work this out with you. I want my poetries to be about your entirety. I want my future to be filled with ours. I want my years to be yours.
I want to argue, make up, and be close to you. I want to share silence, buy groceries, and build a home with you.
I want to trace stars, reach dreams, and share victories with you.
Heaven and parallel universes are not promised. I only have this one chance. And my love, I want us to end up in this lifetime.
I don't want you to be my what-if, my greatest love that got away, or my right-person-wrong time.
I want to work this out with you. I want my poetries to be about your entirety. I want my future to be filled with ours. I want my years to be yours.
I want to argue, make up, and be close to you. I want to share silence, buy groceries, and build a home with you.
I want to trace stars, reach dreams, and share victories with you.
Heaven and parallel universes are not promised. I only have this one chance. And my love, I want us to end up in this lifetime.
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Maybe it's platonic, maybe it's romantic. Maybe we're too afraid to find out. But there is only one name to call the way your eyes track mine for signs of sadness, the way I know your breathing patterns and when to stop you when you're tired— devotion. Just another name for love.
"Adoración" is a marble statue by Norwegian sculptor Stephan Sinding, created in 1903. It depicts a kneeling man approaching a seated woman, conveying a moment of devotion and emotional tension.
The piece exists between reality and symbolism, showing the thin line between love and obsessive attachment to another person.
The piece exists between reality and symbolism, showing the thin line between love and obsessive attachment to another person.
I could have every single inch of your body pressed tight against mine and i'd still say "pull me closer."
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In my memory, it doesn't end.
We just stay there, looking at each other.
Forever.
I just stand there, beneath your shallows.
Staring.
And you just sit there waiting for me to go.
Forever.
We just stay there, looking at each other.
Forever.
I just stand there, beneath your shallows.
Staring.
And you just sit there waiting for me to go.
Forever.
I genuinely recommend being with someone clingy, soft, and shamelessly loving. Someone who kisses your forehead without a reason, sends 'I miss you' texts in the middle of the day, and holds your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. Life is already hard—love shouldn't be. Be with someone who makes you feel wanted, not like you're asking for too much. Someone who's not afraid to love out loud, to show up for you, to choose you—every single day. Because love isn't meant to be distant, complicated, or cold. It's meant to feel like home.