Young love is fleeting attraction,
A dread of attachment,
A fear of abandonment,
A lack of commitment,
With potential for life-long treachery.

What is love?
"This is love," we say, as we see our next date.
But wait—date is too serious a word.
A meeting of sorts,
Ending in the bedroom,
Beneath the sheets
Where our self-worth lies.

Someone causing someone's tears—
It’s always the same routine.
Oh, to be twenty-something.
I went in and came out without my heart on my sleeve,
Lost it somewhere in the midst of vapid conversations.

Weed is the creed
If you're 420-friendly;
If...