complaining about love.

I’ll give my heart to you
so that you can slam it in the wall in exchange
for just a second of infiniteness
what a shame,
love only served to destroy yourself

what is love, anyways?
maybe just a phase
of neverending illusion and a promise
of not being lonely
or is it merely just a temporary disguise
of a promise of fulfilment
and a well-decorated lie?
I sigh,

I’ve been thinking about love for most of my life
and in all due sincerity,
what a waste of time.
all that love ever gave me
was disappointment
and lies, lies and lies.

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