Heartbreak, Self Love, & Life

To some, the highs of love can feel like flying (not on an airplane, nothing so mundane), but, sometimes, because we fly too close to the sun, or because we tire or perhaps because we plain forget what' s keeping us aloft in the air upon draft s so hot...we fall... and fall... and... I think you know what's next—I can see it in the soreness of your step. The heart breaks when it hits the ground, and so do we when it comes down to it. But as I like to—probably annoyingly—pontificate: this is love, this is love, fly and fall, warts and all. And this is life. I don't get it either, to be honest but I have enough sense—even as a poet fool—to know when a steady dose of self love is called for, and you don't need to wait for a prescription, but if you were, this is it. Hand this in to the pharmacist. Reach over the counter and give them a hug. Or maybe that'd be weird. Life is weird. May as well live it and love it—everything in it, fall down. until we all