I was told about love.

I was told about the rush and the wonder,
about the foolishness and the fun,
but mostly about the enchantment.
I was told that love would lift me up forever,
and that when I found that certain love,
then, love would be my life.

I was told half-truths -- half-lies.

In fact, as I juggle my pleasure and my pain,
My wanting makes me wonder for my sanity.
In fact, love taunts me there, just a few feet ahead of me,
showing off its dizzying beauty, nonchalantly,
as though it didn't notice that I was drunk to falling over
with the sight of it.

In fact, love is like a golden ball with a mind and a will of its own,
and a most playful, fickle soul, provoking and teasing me -
so difficult to win and yet too overwhelming to possibly ignore.

If somehow I could secure it,
I would steal it away,
and never come back.