Hysteric love

Charm makes us take off, but we always land rough.
There aren't fifty ways to love me.
Either you love me to death, or you love my bank account.
Miss, I’m more popular than my cash right now.
Better than slim-fit jeans, I’ll mold your heart if you try me on.
The ones who did don't seem to have digested it; you gotta handle it.
When love gains too much weight, we end up tearing each other apart.
By desiring each other too much, we no longer take the time to like each other.
A heatwave always foreshadows lightning.

none of that rhymed