Is it LOVE or is it WAR?

Love is a battlefield.
I need something to save me.
A sword or a shield.

How come there's no help when you need it?
I'm alone over here.
Should I move on or stay put and sit?

Love is like war.
It is miserable.
Though you can't help but want more.

I hate all the things that we go through.
The irritate me to an extreme.
Yet I stick around like glue.

I feel loss but mostly pain.
Half my heart is torn out of my chest.
It would feel better to be alone in the rain.

I drench myself in sweat trying.
But it does nothing.
I'm merely dying.