D O N T
you see?

It wasn’t my pathetic unrequited love.
Nor was it the vanishing of you.
It wasn’t the sorrow I felt while you faded.
Nor was it the recognition of our expiry date.

O  P  E  N
Your eyes.

It was your kindness
It was them sweet white lies you whispered to comfort me.
To protect my feelings.

C A N T
you
see?

You wasn’t letting me down gently.
You wasn’t being noble.
You just prolonged my inevitable misery.
You let the emotion of belonging cement to then just carelessly erase it.

Please
L I S T E N
To me

That mutilated me.
That broke and wrecked me.
That made me contemplate everything.

It
S H A T T E R E D
Me

And yes my own love was the executioner
But you tossed me away
Trafficked me to the devil.

His favourite play is the mockery of

H O P E

You were just his little minion.

Tick tock goes my violent clock,
Lub hub beats my sadistic heart,
Bang bang explodes my venom bombs,
Boo hoo sighs my corrupted youth,
Pitter patter creeps away my virtue,
Ding **** calls my insufferable fetish,
**** a doodle do awakens my undignified temper and
Boom
Boom
Boom
Here comes my distasteful doom.

Oh do not look at me like that.
Although I pulled the trigger you loaded the gun a long time ago.

Oh do not complain that my loose canons of speech are finally repulsively soaring.
When you gave me a deadly spark.

If you do not blame,
Then I promise I won’t too,
The collateral damage of two wishful hearts needs no ownership.

So stop trying to win a forgotten war,
What’s done is done.
No more friendly fire.

My lady,

Oh how I love those rosy angelic cherry cheeks.

Oh how I admire your foxy corn-stranded sunshine hair.

Oh how I drool over the caress of that fair sensual oil skin.

Oh how I fiddle with them refined full blood lips.

Oh how I’m baffled by that Cleopatra spine-tingling smile.

Oh how I analyse your swift throat gulping movement.

Oh how I observe them bones of glistening bewitching talent.

Oh but how I love every part of you but beg you not to return my looks.

Oh how can I learn to love them
Delicate emerald tear-stricken eyes.

If it cripples me even for a second to dive within its grief-stricken ripples of a stare.

If you wish to call it blindness,
Then yes I’m blind.

If you choose to call it submission,
Then I am whipped and kneeling.

If you’re convinced to call it pathetic,
Then cringe because I’m woeful.

If you desire to call it a sin,
Then send me to the pits of hell my god.

If you pick to call it silly,
Then I must still be a immature child.

If you preach to call it ****** up,
Then I am surely deranged and crazy.

If you need to call it chemicals,
Then I’m definitely severely imbalanced.

If you need to call it all of the above,
Maybe spice it up add a few more words

please go ahead.
But I will always call it


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