Love is a rip-off deal.

Love is like inheriting a pair of hand-me-down track pants from your deceased father, and making them the most valuable piece of clothing in your wardrobe.

Love is like a cantankerous old cat, that thinks he's a human, waiting for his best friend to return...where is he??

Love is a rip-off deal. Love moves around you, and in you, and away from the space that holds your name. Yet you can not move without love. You're in trouble....Trouble, confusion.

Love harbours your desire, but rejects reason...Trouble, confusion...lack of reason.

Love will take blooded mouth fulls of my reason. Wanting more, to eat at my reason, bite at my soul...feed my desire, give me hope...I will not allow love to harbour my desire, like a child nestled in the arms of their mother. This is trickery! Instead, I will think love and feel reason.
Reason tells me love makes little sense. Reason tells me water, food and shelter are all I need to sustain. If this is true? I can tell love,

FUCK OFF!!

Love is a rip-off deal. I will make the deal. I will hurt my own reason....lack of reason. I will strive to harbour love...confusion. I will move with, towards love...trouble. I have to, because
I am love.