You say you love me, but I don’t see it.

My heart doesn’t feel it.

Every time I let you back, you love me good and then you break me into pieces.

“I love you,” you always say. Somehow I just don’t think that love has anything to do with it.

What does love have to do with the way you treat me?

You touch me like no other man has touched me before.

Your words caress me with passion.

Still I think you mean well at times and other times you enjoy dragging me through pain.

I take you back because I do love you. Now, I’m thinking what in the hell does love got to do with.

I’ve been a fool too long and I’m tired of the games, the lies and the deceit.

What does love have to do with it?

I can love you from a distance, my heart can run so far that eventually I will forget you.

I can love myself by walking out the door. This isn’t love, this is misery.

You love me, but you don’t respect me.

Love doesn’t mean a thing if it is not true and pure. Love should be rough,

 it should be gentle and as sweet silk chocolate.

The love you give is poison to my heart. You can’t even comprehend the meaning of it.

What does love have to do with you breaking my heart,

with you giving me broken promises?

Naw, this is unbareable love. I deserve to be loved to the fullest.

What does love have to do with it?

You say you love me, but you don’t even know what love is.