What is love?
Is it the way I walk?
Or is it how you smile?
Perhaps both?
Is it how you hold a pencil?
Or how I erase furiously?
Maybe Nether.

Here’s my theory.
Love is a sickness.
It tears you up,
It changes you,
And eventually it will take something.

Love is cruel.
Love is fake.
Love breeds hate.
It creates ripples in life.
And it will cause you to look in a mirror.

Love is non-existent.
Love is a lie.
Love is everything I hate.

Yet,
Why?
Why do I wonder?
With no clear definition,
I still want to know.
I still want to ask,

Do you
Will you
Still love me?