Love, what is it again?
Is it that funny feeling I get every time?
Or is it the heat that produces from the friction?
Maybe it's all the little secrets we share,
Or even possibly the dark looks that trap them.
Is it how comfortable I feel around you?
Or the strength of my hands holding her wrists down
Maybe it's the fact I'd still break limbs if they hurt you,
Or it could be bite marks I leave behind.
Is it how I still picture our future together?
Or is it the way I'm getting more vocal on what I want?
Maybe it's all the little thoughts about you,
Or the new games I learned to play.
Is it how my heart stops at the sight of you?
Or is it new toys underneath my bed?
Maybe it's the way I still hope,
Or the hot shower afterwards.
Is it how many times I wish for more wishes?
Or is it the mantras they scream about me?
Maybe it's the feeling I get when you lean into me,
Or is it the quickie against that tree.
Is it the pep in my step after we just spoken?
Or is it the sad bitch who think she's in control?
Maybe it's the promises I'll still keep,
Or even the way I cringe when she says it.
Is it the way I miss you and wish you miss me?
Or is it addiction to the feel of bare skin?
Maybe it's stupid for me to think that,
Or its sick feeling I get.
Or is it because I never stopped thinking about you?
Or is it the way I remember every scar?
Is it finally called love?
Because I know the others are just lust.