This love they speak of,

Is it truly blind?

This lovely prospect,

Is it truly mine?

-

I want it,

Yet, it seems to escape me every single time.

I want you,

And yet, you still aren't mine.

-

They tell of a love so strong,

So strong that it is never broken…

And this unbreakable theory,

Is this theory proven?

-

They talk of a love so unbelievable,

So unbelievable that I can hardly believe.

I'm not sure that I've loved.

I'm not sure that I've lost.

-

Is this truly love?

Am I truly loved?

Is this love true…

Or am I simply going insane?

-

The advice they give me,

Almost always crumbles in my hands.

"If you're not crazy, you're in love"?

Are my friends not liars?

-

This love they speak of,

Is it truly blind?

Because I'm undoubtedly blind to truth…

And my vision is growing always behind.

-

This lovely prospect,

Is it truly mine?

Butterflies occupy my stomach,

And on my lips, three words always reside.

-

I'm afraid I must be insane.

Kill me now.

For there is nothing left to live for,

If you are not crazy as well.