The Way I See It

The Tax on Love (updated)

You know that fluttering feeling in your chest when they walk by.

The one that you curse yourself for having.

Or those stars behind your eyes,

When you see his face.

Or maybe even that sinking feeling when he starts talking about her.

Or when he fails to see what's right in front of him.

Someone who is perfect for him;

Hopelessly devoted.

"Young love shouldn't feel like this"

Young love should be free.

We shouldn't have to pay such a price; the price of happiness.

We teens, are too poor to afford this luxury.

Because all of our minimum wage income,

Is paid for by the few and far between: compliments, likes, views; random acts of kindness, that make you feel good, but only for a brief time.

And the tax on love is just too high,

For everyone to have it all. 
                    *      *     *
Happiness is a privilege for most,

And love is an even higher and rare one.

Now, I understand that you think that you, yourself, are happy.

But, are you really?

Like, when you get tickets to see your favorite band or YouTuber for Christmas from Aunt Debbie;

You feel happy.

You squeal with delight and you thank her a thousand times, and you can't wait to see the show.

That's happiness, right?

Or is that what you believe happiness to be? What you wrongly associated happiness with.

The happiness I know, the happiness that I am talking about; long term happiness.

Not those shot glass;

Doses of it,

That you always thought was true happiness.

All of those things are just...

Your medication..

To keep you clean...

And from plunging over the edge.

But this also comes at yet another fee, this medication of which I speak.

This fee is one that some just, cannot pay.

And for those individuals, their doses of happiness are lost.

And somehow; some way, they manage to get by.

I envy them.

No, I HATE them.

This is what makes young love what it is,

An empty label, with no real love,

A nickname, with no deep meaning written in your hearts,

A date and a time stamp, merely numbers written in your Instagram bios with hearts next to them.

You go out for 2 months and then you get bored, right?

No, you become broke, because one person gives the other compliment after compliment,