Love is like driving a racecar into a brick wall.
The funny thing about love, though
It isn't that brick wall
Too wide to go around and too high to fly over.
It isn't the track, well cared-for and smooth
Unerringly leading you to that brick wall.
It's not the racecar, sleek with wax, covered with ads
And meant only to go faster.
It isn't the engine, steady and determined
Pushing that racecar to 200 miles per hour.
Love isn't even the explosion that awaits you
Powerful enough to throw shrapnel to the waiting fans
Eager for their next fix.
It's you.
You, guiding that car down its path
Leaning on the gas
Like a teenager in a Go-Kart race
Like it could save your life
Like it is your life.
Leaning on that pedal until your leg stiffens and your shoulders tense from the strain.
Love is you.
I guess love isn't like driving a racecar into a brick wall after all.

Feel free to comment, critique, whatever.