My love is a lie.

A terrible, wonderful lie,

but a lie all the same.

I have no passion, therefore

I have no love.

 

So why do I love you?

 

I once thought all love was a lie.

Then I realized it was just mine.

I lie to my family.

I lie to myself.

Because I was not made to love.

 

So how do I love you?

 

You don’t deserve my love.

It’s a terrible curse.

I’m cold, I’m ignorant, I’m lazy.

I’m mean, I’m pointless, I’m crazy.

 

So why do you say it too?

 

Maybe it’s unreasonable.

Maybe it’s unbelievable.

But this time it isn’t a lie to say,

 

I love you.