I don’t love the sun,Though if it died, so would I.

I don’t love the air,Though I rely on every breath.

I don’t love water,Though it provides all my life.

I don’t love food,Though it keeps me sustained.

I don’t love joy,Though it makes me fulfilled.

I don’t love myself,Though I am my material thought.

So please understand,Though I realise it’s difficult.

How much I mean it,When I say I love you.

By u/bakedbeans908

He died once, A long time ago.

He sat in his car, On the side of the road.

His girlfriend had left him, So he just looked at himself.

Crying out his thoughts, In droplets of hell.

And he stared at his face, Through the rear view mirror.

And he saw her looking back, Ripping him deeper.

And he cried a bit more, And more and more.

His life was over, Nothing else left.

And that was it, He had died for a bit.

But he kept going, And dying some more.

He had died 6 times, When he died at 84.

By u/bakedbeans908

I wrote four words today.Just four.I bleed my hours into them.

Each syllable I weigh.Like lifting stones from a dry riverbed,turning each over and over,until one feels just right in my hand.

Carefully carving,studyingand playing with each one:Which catches the light just right?Which plays well with the others?What are you trying to tell me?

But mostly,I discard.

Four words.

All my labor for the day--Just four words.

It was a good day.

By u/Dazzling-Ad-2827 (Reddit)