Sunflowers Turned Gradients of Red.

Love seems a near apocalypse to me.

The type that no one saw coming

and will forever

change life as we know it.

It seems like a fresh piece of paper,

before the words start to tumble

and the poem could become anything.

The heart accelerates

as foolishness overtakes it with optimism.

Love is a whale,

and we are in its belly.

It is

an uncharted land

and everyone thinks they have the map,

but I think I'm lost,

and everyone I ask for directions tells me something different

then the person before them.

Love is an unutterable

and unpredictable thing,

and I think

that I

am afraid of it

now.

Still,

each night

I find myself

laying in my bed,

wondering if we're both listening

to the cry of the same

lonely train

which crashes through the night.