Elska, what do i know of such a thing?

My misinterpretation of love has caused me more pain then pleasure.

Love was the word she uttered before she told me she could no longer stand by while I suffer this long and lonely death.

Love is what got me here; loving people, places and things that had no feelings.

I want to love, but somewhere along this journey I forgot how.

They love only who they think I am.

They love to hate the real me, the truth to the man that is carefully hidden.

Elska- a four letter word in possession of life and death.

Life = emotion

Death = emotionless

Both men and women have mastered delicate arts and none have mastered love.

Elska, a beautiful picture that hurts so bad.

Love comes with few truths, and many lies.

Maybe I was better off without ever having familiarized myself with love.

Í dag, love has done nothing but crush my soul.

Every night before I close my eyes I wonder who loves me. Ennfremur, I wonder who cares.

Love wouldn’t steal my dreams, kidnap my hope and strangle my spirit.

In the morning, when I wake, I continue pushing on.

If no one loves me, I know I love my SELF.