Pitfalling

That word love          
playing sickly on the heart's harp          
tuning a deaf ear to its song          
Getting ready to pump          
hot blood racing          
to the places it won't belong          
I know that face          
the fickle fool        
who conjures the fates          
to mask my mistakes          
ever so willing to chalk up a killing      
so eager to string me along          
This new shoes stride in my steps          
dreams love with my laces untied          
immune to the imminent threats      
as I struggle to hold back the tide          
while a bad wolf lurks          
round the corner to smirk        
and then growls at the jerk  
putting his first foot wrong