It’s okay, this love stuff. Mostly…
It’s a wild ride and makes everything worthwhile.
Sometimes, I could barely understand,
sometimes, it’s okay. But my heart? I hate it.
My absurd self, tired of being jealous,
tired of telling myself it hurts, being jealous.
When emotions go berserk, crawl up
and tears make their way out, really cloud me up.
Stupid jealous, silly in love, talking normal stuff,
self, you. It’s okay sometimes, love.