If love were a place, what would it look like?

Where is everyone? I am missing the poets. So I am provoking a game of peek a boo Because I am missing seeing all of you!

Open Your book Look at the pages Not the pristine pages but The torn pages The pages that have tear stains as if they have been tie dyed by your amount Of failures Those pages that you scribbled on trying To change the outcome Notice all of the time you had happiness But Erased the Happi and replaced it with S A D Here is the tough part Look at all the pages you tore out The ones you ripped Hoping that it would erase your memories The pages you crumbled up Threw away Hoping that your past Went along with them Your story Was tough A story that had you questioning your own life A story that challenged you to change the narrative But instead The characters were still traumatized The feelings The emotions Followed in every chapter Your story May have been pre determined But satan placed many obstacles in your path Changing the plot and damaging the ending People Situations Illness Death Became your table of contents Anxiety Depression Subtitles that started haunting you Keep turning the page Here are the pages that really matter The blank pages The pages that will determine how your novel ends The pages that you can use to write words that will No longer define who you are The pages That God has set aside for you Blank pages Are just that Pages that you can use to make a way When there is no way possible Pages that beg for you to keep going Blank pages that will become Chapter After Chapter After Chapter giving you a chance To get up And proceed with your life And those tears They can continue to drop And stain your story Because tears will always happen Unfortunately But, it’s up to you to use those tears as quotations for your story The characters on these pages are going to change Meaning Editing your life Will never change That eraser Will continue to be used That S A D Will eventually turn To Happi again That hope That fearlessness will return Allowing you to bypass the reminders of pages torn And fill those blank pages With ink Showing your determination Expressing your perseverance

Let’s build a poem together—one line at a time. Rules: • I’ll start with the first line. • Each person adds one new line only. • Don’t explain it. • Don’t fix what came before. • Let it drift wherever it wants to go. Mood? Mystery. Memory. Love. Loss. Wonder. Surprise me. Here’s the opening line: “The night left something on my doorstep, and I haven’t touched it yet.” 👇 Your turn—add the next line.

If your life were a poem right now… what would the title be? Bonus round: what genre is it romance, comedy, tragedy, mystery, or pure absurdist chaos? Extra bonus: drop the first line. No overthinking. Surprise yourself. Make us laugh. Make us curious.