Love, a murderer.

Love is like a cigarette, that smoulders, burns. You crave it every time, inhale it, let it suffocate your lungs. It is like a drug you inject into yourself. It infects the blood in your veins, turning the red blood into blue, just like your feelings. Love, it is alcohol, so comforting, so soothing, snatching away the consciousness with every sip, poisoning you. Like a razor, which is so small, you cannot even imagine the amount of destruction it will cause if you hand this little killing thing over to someone and let them cut you. Love kills.