to be or not to be
that's not the question
because i have no choice
to love or not to love
suits life much better

to love
to trust, to open, to feel another
life besides my own
and all the insecurities
doubt
fear
elation
that come along with it

or not to love
to give in to complacency
and this overwhelming desire to give
up in smoke with nothing to show
no legacy
no survivors
nothing left
besides the end, the abyss, the void

whether it's love
is the more difficult question
how do i know if it's love i feel
fear or love
phobos, philos
amazing how two polar opposites
are so easily conflated in my
silly head (which i think is overrated anyway)

it's the subjectivity of it
all that i cannot bear
alone, or together, no way
of knowing

to love or not to love
and whether or not it's love
let's hear Hamlet's whingy romanticized opinion on that, the *****