cupid’s arrow aimed at my frontal—
cortex,

cupid’s arrow aimed for my brain, not my—
chest,

i did not see it coming (too fast for the eye can see)
trembling— with cupid’s bow in my hands:

"Am I the really real me?"

feeling my cerebral fluids leaking—
i’m seeking—
the truth,

"But what is the cost?"

your life you will lose.