LOVE

 

                       Lovee, love, love.

                      Oh, what a nuisance. 

                            Stop it already. 

Everywhere you go, it’s “love this, love that”like we haven’t got enough problems without this never ending parade of emotions.

 And don’t get me wrong, I’m guilty of it too, blabbering about love like it’s some magical cure for everything. 

I’ve had my moments, staring at the ceiling, playing sad songs, thinking, “Oh, love will fix it.”

                     Yeah, right. Fix what?

                        My sleep schedule?

                             My sanity?

 Please. It’s like we’re all in this cult of love, chanting its praises, ignoring the fact that half the time it’s just messing with our heads. 

It’s not all butterflies and Taylor Swift bridges it’s more like surviving a flood and then saying, “That was nice, let’s do it again.”

                   Love conquers all!

                    but does it, really? 

Love conquers your sleep when you’re lying awake overthinking every text?

 Love conquers your mood when one little argument turns your day upside down? 

And don’t get me started on “love will find a way” yeah, it found a way to make me lose my mind.

                    And yet, I’m guilty too. 

     Oh, I’ve had my share of love rants.

I’ve been that person, texting my friends about how "he’s the one" after a single good conversation, acting like I am the first person on this whole wide world to feel it that way.

 I’ve played lovers on loop blushing throughout every verse.

I’ve waxed poems about love fixing everything, meanwhile it’s the reason I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. 

I’ve even been the one preaching “self-love” while treating myself to instant noodles and calling it “me time.” 

So yeah, I’ve been there, hyping up love like it’s some kind of miracle, when really, it’s just chaos wrapped in pretty words and romantic moments.

I remember dreaming about love.

 Every night, 

I'm every stairway  every balcony of school.

I would close my eyes and paint scenes of what it should be. 

You know, the fairy tales they tell you about the ones that make you believe someone, someday, will take you away from everything.

 Away from here. I wanted that, more than anything. I used to imagine it as this comfy,safe place where nothing could ever hurt me again.

Well, I was an idiot.

I was stupid. 

Pathetically stupid.

Because love, 

what they call love,my dear.

Is just another cage.

 Just another kind of venom.

I was raised on poison.

Never saw what it was softness felt like.

Never heard slow polite words.

Maybe that makes sense.

Me glorifying love so much.

Because it something I desired.

Never had.

Wanted but never.

And you always want something that you don't have.

I was raised on venom.

Venom is sweet, you know?

When it’s all you’ve ever tasted.

It numbs you first, then it breaks you.

And you think, maybe this is how it should feel.

Maybe the burn is normal.

Maybe the pain is just another word for love.

Maybe it’s better to be shattered than to be nothing at all.

And,

When I finally fell in love, or at least, I thought I did.

I froze. 

I couldn’t feel the warmth everyone talked about.

 Instead, I felt… hunted.

 Like there were fangs in every touch, every kiss.

 A bite waiting behind every smile.

 I wanted it so badly, you know?

 I wanted to trust, to believe in something pure.

 But there was this voice inside me, hissing.

So you love me? 

But what does that even mean?

 Does it mean ownership?

 Does it mean slowly injecting me with more poison until I can’t even tell where I end and the pain begins? 

And when you held me,whispered sweet things in my ear, but all I heard was the venom dripping from those lips. 

It’s what I’ve always heard.

 It’s what I was raised on.

Love is a slow death.

It’s the kiss that feels like a knife.

The hug that breaks your bones.

Love is venom, love is poison.

Love is just another way to die quietly, unseen, unheard.

 And now? 

Now I’m stuck. 

I’m trapped between wanting to believe and knowing that I can’t.

 How do you trust something when all you’ve ever known is betrayal?

 How do you let someone in when everyone you’ve ever let in has torn you apart from the inside? 

Every time you say my name, I want to believe it’s different. But it isn’t. It’s just more of the same.

My heart wants to love. 

It screams at me to give in, to feel something other than this numbness.

 But my mind… my mind is a battlefield. 

Every “I love you” sounds like a threat.

 Every kiss feels like a trick.

And what kills me is that I wanted this. 

I asked for this. 

I thought love would save me.

 But all it’s done is make me see how broken I am. 

How every part of me is so shattered that I can’t even hold love when it’s right there in front of me.

I begged for light, and all I got was more darkness.

I prayed for love, and all I got was venom.

I asked for a hand, and all I felt were the chains.

Maybe this is all I deserve.

Maybe I was never meant for more than this.

You know what’s funny?

 Deep down, I still believe in love.

 How pathetic is that? 

After everything, 

I still cling to the idea that maybe, just maybe, love isn’t supposed to hurt this much.

 That I deserve better than venom. 

But it’s a distant thought, like something that’s not really meant for me.

I look at myself in the mirror and I wonder… will I ever be able to feel love the way others do?

 Or has the poison sunk too deep, too far into my bones? 

Will I ever be able to trust, to feel warmth without expecting the bite?

I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.

But I deserve better than this. Don't I?

I deserved more than the venom.

I deserved a love that didn’t tear me apart.

But maybe the venom is all there is.

Maybe the poison is all I will ever know.