What is love?
Is it something you fight for?
Is it something born out of loneliness?
Is it something that just occurs?
Or is it something you develop with tenderness and care?
Be what It may…
Why is it complicated?
Why does it hurt?
Why does it cause pain?
Why does it betray?
Why can’t it just be happy?
Why can’t it be a soft summer glow?
Why can’t it be a blanket tucking us in?
Why can’t it be a warm hug?
The puppetry of irresponsibility handed over to the master of playful cunningness and here I am torn apart between living, loving and hate.
Foxes 