What is love?
The million dollar question,
Gets asked too many times.
But what is love?
Is it the morning sunshine, shining through my window
As I wake up in the morning?
Is it the obligation I feel around my blood?
Like Sam Winchester, I'm the black sheep.
Is love the admiration I get for my heroes?
Is it the hope I get,
When I wish I could be somewhere else,
And leave everyone happy.
It love in the words we write?
The pictures we paint?
I think love is when you keep crawling back to someone, even after they've caused you so much pain.
I think love is seeing a million little stars in the sky,
Or each little house on a plane.
To me,
Love is jealousy.
It's that burning you get when you think
Mine.
Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine.
And, boy am I jealous of everyone
Who gets to be with you,
While I slowly rot away.
