I said the truth, “I like you today,
But I don’t know what tomorrow will change.
I can barely trust my own mind
To stay consistent through the passage of time.
Once the mania has retired,
And production of dopamine has expired,
What am I going to feel in the end?
Am I supposed to fall all over again,
Waiting for endorphins like an addict?
Lost in serotonin dreams hoping to snap out of it?
Oxytocin pumping around my blood
Coursing through my heart in a flood?
With this secretion in my brain,
There’s a thin line separating loving and insane.
No doubt, there’s chemistry,
But I don’t think it’s between you and me.”