My Philophobia

Love is the epitome of unconscious doubt.

Seeing me bare in my inadequacies unfolds me in the trepidation.

Whilst still containing my devoted love for you my anxieties torment my body.

The only love I know is fear.

Love is unorganized and I have OCD.

I am consistently yearning for the enlightening remarks of what love is 

My fear contradicts every beautiful aspect of being in love. 

So much so that my own heartbreaks are caused by my worst enemy. 



This poem is about: 


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