I sometimes get exhausted by the amount of negativity spoken about love
Why must we magnify how destructive love can be and ignore the potential it has to rebuild?
Why let love be the death of you instead of bring you to life?
If it is love that’s making you ill, then I suggest that you reconsider the poison that you pick
And having doubt for something doesn’t always answer your questions about it, things wouldn’t be as interesting if we weren’t curious
Silence isn’t always the answer you’d been looking for, limitless thoughts are created within seconds
How could you possibly find a guaranteed answer in infinity?