If words spoke for themselves

This sentence is in love with the next one.
I’ve always misunderstood the term “love”, and I do wish the language I was written in had more words to describe the feeling.

By forcing you to hear the ups and downs of these sounds in your mind, I explicate emotion.
I have a crush on the word “explicate”.

The sentence above me doesn’t even know what explicate means, asshole.

I don’t know what you, the reader, think love is, but I know that I’ve found it; I have become a part of love and you, the reader, have witnessed it.

They think a semicolon holds them together. Fools. What is love, to be determined by punctuation? The stopping and starting of sound. I am an idea, overflowing, and unable to be contained by a sentence. Above contamination, I will never love. However, I will be understood. And to me, to words, that is a more worthy pursuit. This is a more worthy pursuit.

Which is why words will never fall in love, why sentences never speak to each other.