Love(?)

What a volatile thing it is that people seek 

How unpredictable,

Temperamental,

Bipolar.

Love. 

What’s so great about love? 

All your hormones run high, imbalancing all activities but one 

Your violent tendencies surface, misaligning thoughts, inducing insecurity, infusing paranoia…

Like a guitar that strums right but is tuned wrong. 

Something’s off about love. It’s too coincidental

-too common–

To be taken at face value. 

Love is so differently defined,

And so much is expected out of it. 

What’s so great about love? 

Love is just a romanticised word 

For biological needs that are socially legitimised.

And its particular aura 

Is here in my mind 

Because it’s been fed like code.

“Love is transcendence. 

Love is indescribable. 

Love is unique. 

Love is pain. 

Love is luck.” 

 

When perhaps 

None of these are true. 

Does love around you look like it’s unique? 

Does love feel like it’s an atypical permutation

Of the thousands of love-related things 

I see on TV?

Or is it not unique even in that respect?
Are loves even unique among themselves, 

Or do after some point

They all start to merge? 

It’s a bleak picture. 

I’m striving for something that I think will give me happiness, 

But I’m far from it. 
Love is a photoshopped picture –

Enhaced, saturated, increased contrast –

So much so that I’ve stopped recognizing it in the way it naturally is. 

So much so that I’ve stopped appreciating it. 

So attuned to Grand Gestures of Love, I missed the little simple things.

I convinced myself that I’d only be happy with love, 

But love hurt. 

My vision was too tunnelled to fix my misconception, 

So I just became a masochist.