What of love?

What of love?
The untouchable, unmoveable, undaunted, reckless, hurtful emotion of humans
Our disposition tells us we must love, need love and be loved
To cherish words uttered of it
To delight in the presence of it
I say why?
I scream until my throat becomes red raw and my eyes blood shot
Why must we love?

The heart has frozen over with realism and been ravaged with brutal honesty
Love and I despise each other
Love is a trick, to corrupt the mind knowing only one probable outcome
Eternal connection or eternal break-up
Love is inevitably unkind, love is predictable
Love is not innate in the human mind
Love is a bygone word,
How can one ever express love to a respectable degree?
Would one say I know because I can feel it?
I know that I love a particular person because I just know.
How reputable would that evidence be?
How superficial is that?
Love is manufactured
Something, which cannot ever be explained fully
Time is lost for another
Time is shared with another person and all for what
I never know what to make of it
The fluttering of eyes, the lingering smile, the ruffle of hair

Isolation manifests negative thoughts but simplicity is easier
Love hurts when you’re out of it
Love is good when you’re in it
Therefore be in love