Love (Not)

Love is not what it seems.
It is not on the cover of magazines.
It is not a beautiful girl in a beautiful dress.
It is not red lips upon pale flesh.
It is not covered in glitter and gloss.
It is not something you have ever lost.
It is not what you see on the big screen.
It is not that feeling inside your jeans.
It is not the subtle scent of sweetness.
It is not the essence of discreetness.
It is not a ring of diamond stone.
It is not the beginnings of a home.
Love is only madness.
This is true.
A painful creation of the mind, through and through.

(I’m supposed to be writing a paper, but I ended up writing this poem instead. What do you think?)