"My Act of Love"

[Ophi 258]

"My Act of Love"

There is a poem that says:

"And for my final act of love, I will let you go,

I will leave you alone."

 

as if love is proven

in the moment it releases its grip,

as if devotion is measured

by how gently it learns to disappear.

 

But mine was never built to end.

 

There is nothing final in it,

no quiet closing of hands,

no soft retreat into absence

to make the leaving look like grace.

 

Love, to me, does not bow out

when it becomes difficult to hold.

 

It does not loosen

at the first sign of resistance,

does not dress itself in dignity

and call surrender a kindness.

 

It stays.

 

Not blindly,

not without seeing the fractures,

the silences that stretch too long,

the distance that tries to name itself permanent,

 

but despite them.

 

Because to leave

is to admit the flame could be put out,

that it was always meant

to flicker, to falter, to fade

into something forgettable.

 

And mine refuses.

 

Mine learns the shape of the dark

and burns through it anyway.

 

They call it foolish,

this refusal to step away,

this insistence on remaining

when it would be easier

to rewrite the ending

as something clean, something finite.

 

But there is nothing clean about love

that was once real.

 

Nothing noble

in abandoning it

the moment it demands endurance.

 

So I stay.

 

Not as a shadow

or something clinging,

but as something certain,

a presence that does not waver

simply because it is not met

with equal fire.

 

Because love is not a performance

that ends when the audience leaves.

 

It is not a transaction

that dissolves when it is not returned

in perfect measure.

 

It is something chosen,

again, and again, and again,

 

even when it would be easier

to choose otherwise.

 

So let them have their final acts,

their quiet exits dressed as mercy.

 

Let them call it strength

to walk away

before the weight of it settles in their hands.

 

But this,

 

this is my act of love:

 

to remain,

to endure,

to hold the line where others let go,

 

to believe that something worth having

is something worth staying for.

 

Not because it is easy.

 

But because it is not.

 

Spoiler

This poem has been in the works for a little while, im not exactly used to writing poems purely about love but i hope its good! Its more of my view on a poem ive seen a few times where they state "In my final act of love, i will let you go" which is a really lovely poem.

 

[KeiaTypeBeat 3276]

awwwwww, Alex, I really like this one! keep it up, champ :3

[Pinky 77]

The Goat strikes again. THE GOOOAAAATTTT