for real, what is love anyway?

probably it is the thing you can only feel, right there beneath your rushing breathe

or maybe the pain on your chest, which doesn’t make sense at all since you don’t have any medical records of heart attacks

but they say it is the butterflies on your tummy, tickling you with oxytocin

.

most of the time it was just me, failing, not good enough, not even close to make someone knew I was trying

or maybe they knew but I don’t deserve it

no, I…

I let them down

.

for real, what is love anyway?

’cause you could’ve put all of that into so much efforts but to be loved back is too much to ask.