The Poison and the Cure.

Love, I'm fascinated by you. Intrigued by how you affect people.
Are you a disease? If so, what is your cure?
You afflict the unsuspecting victim, and they are slaves to you for life!

I'm amazed by how you can turn sweaty palms derived from the nervousness of a first date into clenched fists of "I wanna punch this sonafab!tch!",

How you can turn " I love to watch you eat and sleep" into "I don't care if you starve and die",

How " I can't wait to see you" can quickly become " I hope you don't make it in",

How those precious vows can quickly become "I'm gonna get this negro/negress",

How you can go from feeling like a butterfly, light colorful and lovely into a vulture, Dark and Ugly.

How you can go from being their biggest fan, their cheerleader to wishing in your heart that they don't succeed.

How those eyes, glazed over with excitement and stars, damn they shine so bright when you're in love, don't they? You can light a thousand homes in Lagos city. How do they fill with so much hate and disgust?

Up and down, you take them. Round and round till they are sick to the stomach, then the cycle begins again.

At what point does the love die? At what point do you give up on loving that person?

Your heart is filled with so much hate and venom. It seems like you're stuck in a dark deep vortex. "I hate this b!tch!" You tell yourself. "I hate ALL b!tches!", "Men are dogs!" "I hate love", or so you think.

Hahahaha, love says. He laughs in derision, tormenting you, because you know he's right. Get over yourself. Soon, you'll be begging for my arrow to pierce your heart again. You will feen for that warm fuzzy feeling again. Your palms will get sweaty again, you will feel like a German machine again, like a butterfly again, you will soon only have words love on your lips for that girl/boy that you will meet. hahaha get over yourself, he says.

So after the tears have been shed, after you have gotten mad, then leveled the playing field by "gettin em", you step out again on hope and a prayer, hoping this time, love will be kind to you. That this will last forever. The pain is temporarily gone.

Love shakes his head and enjoys the game of chess. He sits back, rubs his hands in glee. You're only a pawn in his game. He throws back his shot of vodka.

Love, I'm fascinated by you. Intrigued by how you affect people.
Are you a disease? If so, what is your cure?
You afflict the unsuspecting victim, and they are slaves to you for life!

I am the poison AND the Cure, he says. Then lifts his glass in a toast to my utmost disbelief.