Who am I?
I am love
but I am not love.
I wear love’s coat,
like a blanket
and hold its
sweet, sweet smell
a perfume too expensive to touch.
Those who dare,
always pay the price.
You see
I am not as kind as love.
I do not care.
I do not embrace with loving arms.
The heart rules the mind.
I make
your body the master of your heart.
Your soul is tossed aside.
It is no worth to me.
I am a coward.
I flee at the sight
of pain
and do not help.
It is not my job,
after all.
My job is to leave you enshrouded
intrigued torn upon captivated enthralled clouded
in the mystery that you thought
was love.
I am not love.
never will be
never have.
I am the jealous best friend.
The one always trying to steal the limelight.
Who sometimes comes before love.
Steals love.
With grimy hands,
Covered in jeweled gloves.
I do not feel with the heart,
I feel with the body.
Sensual. Aroused. Intimate. And stimulated.
Who am I?
I am lust.
Differentiating between love and lust. I believe that there should be a guidebook for that.