Love isn't real
it's a fairy tail,
a dream,
a trick of the brain.
Love is your little imagined rail,
to hold onto when you scream
but it only causes you pain.
Love is an illusion
to hide from the cruelty
of the terrifying
reality.
Love is a killer
who enjoys killing hearts,
but I can't deny it's a thriller
as long as it lasts.
Love causes deth, hate and pain
all around the world,
it drives us insane
and leves us at loss for word.
Love is what keeps us alive and in our mind
even though it's a lie
love will never die.
Love leaves us hoping for more
high up on cloud nine
it leaves us shaken to the core.
Love is divine.
YOU ARE READING
[ Title ]
PoetryMy thoughts are passion and ripped-off wings and falling and my paper is a child and closed palms and butterflies.