Of Sex and Love

Have you ever tried to convince yourself that powerful feelings are illogical? Have you experienced bliss in union, but denied yourself a complete connection, because you think nothing truly lasts?

I like the chemicals you release in my brain,

the oxytocin ecstasy hinting partnership inane, 

for this is how people become insane, 

once we've lain, logic is slain.

I like how our bodies intertwine, 

a poetic symphony of expression divine, 

a want becomes need, as you should be mine,

 but to lust so completely is to cross the line.

Cognitive dissonance belies the truth, 

an irreverent air defies our youth, 

for to be blasè is to be uncouth, 

I devise to continue with no ruth.

It's crazy to care,

 an intensity scare, 

I was caught unaware, 

but the feeling is there, 

now I shan't escape this sorrowed despair.

Of sex and love

They f**k me up

Just like a hardcore demon drug

I know not... what to... do...

About you

Restraint is the only chance for hope,

 if I'm in too deep then I'll barely cope 

with the tightening noose bearing whims to elope,

 sex is the slipknot in the rope.

Would that I were a romantic breed, 

to be swept away without thoughts taking heed, 

but I rationalize as I yearn and plead 

to accept my own feelings after doing the deed. 

I know of a self-defeating prophecy 

that speaks of a rose-colored conspiracy

 to play on friction, imagined affliction, and cynical redundancy:

Love can't exist, lest it ruin me.