Being free

I don't love like in the movies, i don't love like in the poems, i don't love like in the books, i don't love like everyone thinks we are supposed to, i don't know what it is, i'm probably already over that, is holding hands under the table at a banquet dinner, attachement?, or above, a piece of love?, it's a source of instant need for being comforted, be stronger in oneself thinking "i am not alone", i don't plan to be dependant, a zombie of love, i want to be fine with myself alone, a free electron, and give to who i feel to and to who wants me, but we are trapped from the start, and me more than others, my body tingles, i can imagine my hands revering someone else, pressing her against me in the most peculiar places, i'm like a faithful cat (don't think it's an oxymoron), i escape from the grip and caresses, untamed like i'm belonging only to myself, and i come back slithering gracefully to stay close for a moment of intense affection, and there is so much desire in me, but my mind play it proud, and sting me with the trident of the devil, warning me that i could end up like them, brainless, dull and superficial, if i give way to my wild imagination to try what others seem to venerate, they say we have to kiss before going farther, oh my case is so special, and i fear the eyes laying on me, i kiss every part of the skin but my lips slip sideways when i say bye, don't judge me, i'm a confused beast, there's a war in me, there's a pit like moat all around me, i'm careful and passionate when i give, then i retreat in my self hatred, all i want is carrying you in my arms to that place where my love runs free.