Sometimes the heart obsesses over love because it feels like safe haven. Even though we know tables might turn and bridges might burn.

Sometimes it’s like handing over your heart to an organ-donor market hoping it won’t be harvested. Or least expecting people to turn out as repented villains.

We are willing to pull the trigger for something that might fizzle out because we believe that we are convicts of chemistry. Think infatuation is love and sometimes want to take the aisle for it.

We become charters of adrenaline and sometimes seek to see no fault in it. We seek refuge in it assuming it’s pivotal.

We become omniscient to thy mortal heart and sometimes lose ourselves. We drag fatal love to the surface of our hearts hoping to find liberty in it.

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