Bang, Bang That Awful Sound

I was five and he was six
We rode on horses made of sticks

Love could be defined in the most precious of moments and the most wretched of times. Media’s sad attempts to capture “love” over the centuries have only hindered the heart and soul. We have been tricked into believing love consist of being consumed in each other; love is heartache; love is cheesy romance; love is four normally meaningless letters but combined have so much power it could breathe life and in the same breath bring sudden, atrocious death.

He wore black and I wore white
He would always win the fight  

Love is nothing people “think” it is because love isn’t a feeling or an emotion you could easily convey with words. There are no words for love. Love. Just. Is.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground

Trust me when I say love is but only a part glamorous. It isn’t but a tiny pocket of fucking sunshine. Love isn’t about you at all. It isn’t about how you feel or what’s right and wrong for you. Love is taking your head out of your ass and tossing your youthful arrogance and selfishness in the fucking garbage. Love is making decisions beyond the pit of how you “feel” but at the beckoning of those you love; for the good of those beloved.

Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down

To truly love doesn’t suddenly appear. It grows. It is and it grows.

Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine

Love grows and it never stops growing.

He would always laugh and say
“Remember when we used to play?”

Love is knowing you are safe and secure no matter the place, space, time or distance. Yes, Darling, this is truly love.

Bang bang, I shot you down
Bang bang, you hit the ground

Love is buying a Mc Double with extra pickles after promising to boycott Mc Donalds last year and feeling guilty over it and making your significant other feel like an asshole for allowing you to order it, then getting into a heated argument over it and not speaking for two hours. Love is the second that comes after the two hours are over and rushing into each other’s arms because you know no cheese-burger is every worth feeling miserable over. Love is the apology no matter who was right or wrong…. but of course he was wrong.

Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, I used to shoot you down

Love is looking at another guy’s butt and looking at your lover’s butt and realizing although the other butt may as well be more fit, there isn’t another fitter or more beautiful butt worth air humping at random times for the rest of your life but his small but perfect for you, butt.

Music played and people sang
Just for me the church bells rang

Love is unconditional. Meaning not mutually exclusive to what you could or should offer.

Now he’s gone, I don’t know why
And ’till this day, sometimes I cry

Love isn’t four little words you throw around and expect it to stick. Love doesn’t owe you shit.

He didn’t even say goodbye
He didn’t take the time to lie

So for those of you who seemingly toss love around like a monkey tosses its shit, refrain. If you do not have it in you to give love or to receive love, then refrain from shitting on love.

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound
Bang bang, my baby shot me down

Lastly, love isn’t this confusing vortex of emotions, thoughts and deep pondering of “Who am I?” or “Why is this?” Love is simple and love is sane. Love keeps you sane in a world so chaotic. Love keeps you sane as fuck.


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