Love, I often hear, with cascade of definitions placed before me,
with the limited words, sometimes guilt, thrown towards me,
often forgotten, then suddenly, there you are before me,
I bare the silence, then decide to break it, reminiscing the wrath that befalls me,
What is love, I often ask,
for still, I feel like a novice, trying to unwrap the layers that console me.
Love, sometimes difficult to explain, for we all have our little window, from which we see through to define what love is for you and how you choose to show it.