this thing called love. [part i]

i am a hopeless romantic.
it won't stop.
i can't rid myself of it.
and sometimes i wonder if i was born in the wrong time.
sometimes i wonder if there is a place in the world for the old fashioned hearts like mine.
i mean, the stories aren't even that good anymore.
today's idea of love is just lust masquerading as love.
like some mischievous cupid
dancing around with a handful of psychedelics
to give you that euphoric feeling
and pretty soon it wears off and you'll want more...
or something stronger
and pretty soon it's a bunch of disappointed hearts
that have used too many bodies
and nothing is really sacred
are we having fun yet?
and sometimes it dresses up as some sort of sense of duty
because the chemicals are so strong
the attraction is so intense
it doesn't matter that it's killing us
wearing us down
holding us back
we'll hold on until we disappear
and then we resent this thing called "love".