Measurable love

How much love is almost enough love
for the heart to both obstinately demand
and also often relinquish control over
The kinds that fill voids just enough
to not need to embark on further quests
or kinds of love you can drown yourself in

Because there exists a great spectrum
ranging from being enough to numb
that constant throbbing childhood ache,
to that other blissful extreme of the kind
that leaves one showered with attention,
the centre of everyone’s world

That spoilt silver-spooned bitch

And even if you think you know
how much of that measurable love
is enough for the needs of your soul,
how else would you look for it without
leaving behind pieces of your heart
every few steps you take in life

Hoping to find people to pick it up,
ever so often, to care just enough
To keep it warm by fires in their homes
where you can enter, embrace and heal
Yet, all this while, be ready for games
played often by Fate. Be prepared

for heart’s pieces to get devoured
by creatures scavenging for transient flutter,
leaving no trace of you behind, except
for that gaping hole
in place of your heart