The pain is real

Love

is a fickle, funny thing

We dress it with candy

and show it with rings

Everybody wants it

but won't let it breathe

We're given a picture

one shining and white

A warm bubbly mixture

Full of laughing and lights

But love isn't a scheduled tincture

it comes in odd shapes

maybe a weird size

Love isn't a formula

Enacted with care

It's a fluid, living motion

not some cross one must bear

But all too often

love is confused for pain

treated like a burden

and left in the rain

And the love will get soaked

No - it'll be drenched

It lingers - stinging and cold

Left to freeze on a bench

The love will go numb

tired of pain

it would rather let go of

than give up it's name

But if it holds on

the love will one day freeze

it'll crack and then shatter

it will really fucking bleed.