love is ****** up.
it'll make you anxious about **** that doesn't matter
it'll make you feel like you
don't matter.
one small thought becomes a downward spiral
until you're so ******* low,
love is viral.
it spreads like a disease,
beginning with your heart,
and then swallowing your entire being with ease.

love is entirely ****** up.
you start off feeling hopeful
-and happy. like the only music you want to hear
is the kind that's lame and sappy.
you write beautiful positive poetry
(if you're the type) and if you're not,
your life still feels like a poem.

but love is ****** up,
because in the midst of that happiness
true bliss becomes sadness
becomes rage,
becomes madness.
you notice how he turns his phone away
and when you want to make love it's
"not today".
he's been talking to her again,
reassuring you they're "just friends"

and love is ****** up
because we all know that in the end,
there's never such thing
as "just friends".