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What we call love is merely

The agreed upon mutual attempt

To enslave someone in a

Morbidly possessive emotional morass

Of fake feelings enhanced by staged and practiced gestures

And sound byte inane responses to

Mutually agreed upon indications

That some intimacy occurred

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It is an obviously fake front engaged in

In order to hide from that fact that in fact

The whole world is being ****** over by forces

We cannot contend with

So we whine and pout about the meaningless

As an excuse for our inability to deal

With what is real

//

We may break out of it and try to truly love

And really live

Or not

•

It seems like most of us have chosen love

As a  form of suicide

In that we can pretend we are too

Broken

To live

••

We have become too ugly

To really expect love from anyone

Or to love anyone we know to be

As crazy and ugly as we are

//

We have chosen to NOT be chosen

//

Why ?

I don't know

//