Love is misused and words get misconstrued. Some use love as charity. A license to paint the appearance of committment. Love defined how you felt.
It explains the depth of devotion you give to an object of affection. Love taints with the selfish illustrations of fantasies paint.
It undressed the emotional walls.
Once emotions fall, lust is an open free for all. Love is lost and blame sets like a stain. Love gets blamed for why I can’t remember my name. I blame my kindness, but flesh is the weakness. Layers of my self-respect peel away as you eat at my emotions.
Your beautiful fragrance, mixed with the aroma of your emotions, an elixir of confusion. I lost when I believed love was you.
It was lust.
That feeling was you leaving, and I arrived at this conclusion…
Did love stay?