The dearest friend of mine, Maisie, shared Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye’s spoken word poetry video and I found it even more very beautiful if I would write it all down. I haven’t seen any complete written piece of it over the internet tho - partial of it, yes. So I’d top it first having the whole noted! It took me an hour doing the play-pause-write-rewind-play-pause-write thing! Seriously more than like an hour or so. Yay :D
WHEN LOVE ARRIVES
I knew exactly what love looks like.
In 7th grade. Even though I haven’t met love yet, if love had wandered into my homeroom, I would have recognized him at first glance. Love? Wore a Hemp necklace.
I would have recognized her at first glance. Love? Wore a tight French braid.
Love played the acoustic guitar, and knew all my favorite Beatles songs.
Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me.
And I knew I just must be searching the wrong classroom.
Just must be checking the wrong hallway - she was there I was sure of it.
If only I could find him.
But when love finally had showed up, she had a bull cut. She wore the same clothes every day for a week. Love hated the bus. Love didn’t know anything about the Beatles.
Instead, every time I tried to kiss love, our teeth got in the way.
Love became the reason I lied to my parents - I’m going to… Ben’s house.
Love had terrible rhythm on the dancefloor but made sure we never miss this slow song.
Love waited by the phone because she knew if her father picked up, he would be:
“I guess they hung up. “
And love grew. Stretched like a trampouline. Love changed. Love disappeared, slowly, like baby teeth losing parts of me I thought I needed.
Love vanished like an amateur magician, everyone could see the trapped door but me.
Like a flat tire. There were other places I had plans on going but my plans didn’t matter.
Love stayed away for years.. and when finally love reappeared, I barely recognized him.
Love smelled different now. Had darker eyes. A broader back. Love came with freckles I didn’t recognize. New birthmarks. A softer voice. Now there were new sleeping patterns. New favorite books. Love had songs that reminded him of someone else. Songs love didn’t like to listen to. So did I.
But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly. We found jokes that make us laugh. And now love makes me fresh homemade chocolate chip cookie. But love will probably finish most of them for a midnight snack.
Love looks great in lingerie but still likes to wear her retainer.
Love is a terrible driver, but a great navigator.
Love knows where she’s going, it just might take her two hours longer than she planned.
Love is messier now. Nothing is simple.
Love uses the word boobs in front of my parents.
Love chooses too loudly.
Love used the cap off the toothpaste.
Love used a smiley face in her text messages.
And turns out.. love shits.
But love also cries and love will tell you, you are beautiful, and mean it. Over and over again. ”You are beautiful.”
When you first wake up, “You are beautiful.”
When you’ve just been crying, “You are beautiful.”
When you don’t wanna hear it, “You are beautiful.”
When you don’t believe it, “You are beautiful.”
When nobody else will tell you, love still thinks, “You are beautiful.”
But love is not perfect and will sometimes forget. When you need to hear it most, “You are beautiful.” Do not forget this.
Love is not what you are expecting. Love is not what you can predict. Maybe love is in New York City already asleep. You are in California, Australia, wide awake. Maybe love is always in the wrong timezone.
Maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love. Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type.
Maybe the next time you see love 20 years after the divorce, love looks older now but just as beautiful as you remember.
Maybe love is only there for a month. Maybe love is there for every firework. Every birthday party. Every hospital visit. Maybe love stays. Maybe love can’t. Maybe love shouldn’t.
Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to and love leaves exactly when love must.
When love arrives, say, “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.” If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her. Turn off the music. Listen to the quiet. Whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”