"love" is a game you play,
cat-chase-mouse and come in for the kill
but every playful swipe of the claws cuts deep
and the blood pours out faster than the "love"
can't you see I don't want to play anymore?
"love" is the seasons,
spring-forward, summer together, fall into bed
but you can't forget there is another season
for it is always winter in your heart
and the coldness cuts deeper than the warmth can burn
"love" is life, or so you say
but every second the end creeps nearer
because you hurt me, you slay me
and eventually I'll die for this so-called "love"
"love is suicide," disguised as feeling