Screw Love

12 Feb


Don’t tell me about love. Don’t swear your undying devotion to me. Don’t promise me forever and always. I’ve heard that before.
And the script has always been the same. It has been a circle i can recite off the top of my head. Simple but outrageously boring.

I don’t know what it is about people that make them feel entitled to your everything the moment they declare their emotions with you. This alone makes me shudder at what marriage could look like. A simple relationship alone drives me crazy.

Because with me i know nothing about neat love. When i like someone, that’s my equivalent expression for love mark you, when i really like you…i do it with passion. It gets intense. Messy. I obsess over the emotion till it sickens me.

Because then i will want to kiss you as if my life depends on it. And in a way it does. I just want to sit and stare at you stupidly. The moment you are the object of my fancy, i somehow pity you. Because my desires are not neat

Love. I hate that word, love. It’s a word people toss around and use to blackmail others emotionally. I hate it when someone expects me to suddenly fit into their idea of what perfect love is about.

The way i see it, there is no perfection in love. It’s supposed to be messy. One moment you are looking at them with puppy eyes and the next moment you can cheerily strangle them. One minute you are holding their hand, and the next minute you want to gladly push them down the hill. One minute you are kissing, the next minute you are banging a door on their face

But the idea that love is perfect,That it should fit into a neat little box. That it shouldn’t have clutter. That’s the dumbest thing ever. It’s the most selfish thing ever.

For me you can either love me or leave me. I can never be owned by someone. I believe people should have their space to do what they enjoy. Space and support from their supposed loved ones. Am just saying.

I want a burning kind of desire. The type that leaves me breathless. The type that can’t be put in a box. Feelings that can’t be labelled. One without description. No, i don’t want the cliche idea. Movies and discos. No, i want to watch the sunset with you. Feel the cold set in and nestle next to you. Feel your pain and share in your joy.
Drown in your eyes. Catch my breath at your touch.
Well, i could wax poetic about it but the point is, i want raw, naked, genuine, burning desire.

Screw love.

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Posted by on February 12, 2015 in Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing


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