If anger is a weed,

It's friends grow in abundance

It lifts me up then pulls me down

.

Love's pull is so much gentle.

It kisses me passionately.

I hold on so tight wishing, pleading to not let go.

It whispers in my ear

And fills me with new hope.

.

So I stop wishing, stop doubting.

I kiss back,

With equal amounts of passion.