Love is simply just a thought made for children,

And for those that are ditsy enough to fall under its spell.

Love…

Like an all-powerful tyrant, it brainwashes,

But not with guns,

Not with propaganda,

Or biological warfare,

But with roses, kissing, and bedtime activities.

With pink bubbles that pop with the smell of lavender,

And other essential oils that influence desire,

To numb the brain and break down its barriers.

With releases of frequent serotonin,

That will eventually end with an overdose of melatonin.

Love is like a cake.

Iced perfectly on the surface,

With elaborate designs that create awe,

And bring on thoughts in our minds of what it will taste like.

Flavors that are customizable to all likings.

Chocolate fudge, red velvet, extra moist,

Or maybe you’re more a vanilla person,

Not too extreme.

But the choice is all yours.

All you need to do is purchase the mix,

But every cake mix has its expiration,

And every baked cake will go stale.

With icing that hardens,

With a taste that sours.

So, next time, when you cut into that Betty Crocker,

Imagine that with every slice you take,

You’re taking another stab at your heart.

But it’s okay, it tastes so sweet,

Like drunk love under the sheets.

With everyone happy and sitting about,

Celebrating the pastry mother made about,

Remembering that sugar running through your veins,

So that when your heart attack hits,

It’ll melt your brain…

Love is like child’s play,

Love is like a cake.