There is just something about
that level of intimacy we reach
when we hold hands while sleeping…
When you have the urge to give your lover soft kisses on body parts closest to you just because they stirred a little in their sleep…
That level of intimacy where your body naturally searches for them in the midst of your drowse because the warmth of their skin feels like home.
Sex isn’t even a necessary part of the equation. This level of intimacy is deeper than physical.
It’s like our souls fell in love during our slumber and snuck out as we slept to connect a bit deeper


I’ve bent so much
I’m now broken.
I’ve given so much
My tank is depleted.
I’ve compromised so much
I’m no longer myself.
This can’t be love.
Love is suppose to mend
Love is suppose to fill us
Love is suppose to reveal
our authentic selves.
But this love has left us
with less of who we once were.