Sharing is caring. Sharing love is daring. So is staring into the eyes of the one you love. Blaring heartbeat, whether girls or guys, below or above the thighs determines lust or love. Either way gets you high flying like a dove when I try to contemplate whether it's lie or love. Love repeated and used to rhyme with itself, cause each love is different, like you're a **** or ****, or no mom or no dad, no parents to teach you about the love you never had, here comes the guilt, tho you did nothing bad, the word "sorry" was spilt, out the mouth now I'm mad, put my mind at a tilt... confusion. Anxious love intrusion, I can feel our bodies fusing, must be looking for a bruising, she really had that clever rusing, smoked a blunt, then I'm puking, hole in one, not trying punt, so she's accusing me of cheating, like I would see someone else, while shes bleeding cause she fell, so deep in love, and always needing, a push or a shove, so there's receding instead of a clingy human melting onto me, is this really love?