Toxic relationships feed our lustful need for love.
Why do we accept the most fake love around just for physical stimulation?
Love is more emotional than physical, but still we choose bodies over souls.

Just as drugs, love is addictive.
More and more use leads to more and more breakage.
Once we're completely spent at the use of fake love do we only start to see the reality.

Yet, we still bypass the urge to consider the soul and continue being a slave to an urge for temporary happiness.

Without an emotional connection, how do you completely connect with your "loved" one?
Just a physical connection doesn't mean there's a complete connection.

We can't get enough of fake love,
Even though it kills us.

His heart beat in two
And mine was in three
Our cadence was always just off
But I switched to a two
One bright afternoon
When I missed a beat trying to cough

he talks about other girls
but i want to be the one talked about
he tells me he would hit that
i just laugh
i want to be whats on his mind half of the time
hes on mine

Each day is a day like day had before
I don't know if I can take anymore
There's pain in my bones; Weak feeling and sore
I question myself what this life is for

Don't know what's ahead; Don't know what's in store
As happiness hides behind a locked door
The pressure, it builds to find it before
The hourglass now has emptied what's stored

The light from me left; Although I'm not sure
If ever I had a light that was pure
My soul's on death's bed; No hope of a cure
The word's left unsaid; I'll always want more

Waves lapping against the rocky beach shore
Each time takes away; A heavenly chore
Was true of my joy; A tunnel was bored
Inside from my soul true self of me poured

I ******* out myself like a *****
Each day is a lie that I can't afford
I wish I was maimed; Insides had been gored
I can not explain; Knight falls on his sword

But I am no knight; More like one who's poor
Been chewed up, discarded; Fruit with no core
Tried sharing with you; A piece of me tore
But know you disliked; Did nothing but bore

This poem is not new; These words said before
I've whined and cried too like those I deplore
A task left to do; Must settle the score
Each day starts anew; Be happy once more