Is There A Limit To Falling In Love?

How do you stop the fall or do you stop it?

My Photo, Graffiti

When you fall in love

is there a limit,

a certain capacity hit

that stops the fall

this tumbling act of

limbs and arms flailing

eyes glimmering with hope

rose colored glasses changing

to a current world tint

it’s shit colored by the way

a certain sort of brown

when your eyes open

to what the outside looks like

are the little nuances

caught

and those habits

drive you insane

instead of crazier in love

yet, I keep waiting

for our pieces I collect

like a hermit crab with my shell

of your past, my lives lived

to find some part to give

that it’ll be faulty designed

a jenga piece not aligned

just right where it all