There must be tar in my lungs
Not because I used to smoke
Not because I breath fire at the feckless
But words keep sticking in my throat

Only the really big ones though
Not because they're long, they're not
Not because they're rare, they're not
But they're heavy and easy to stick

I wish I could say…

A secret crush turned into love.

He took her hand and whispered secrets.
He made her fall into the deepness,
and then one night he gave her
a hug,
a kiss,
a ride.

He took her to his room
and laid her down.
She said, “no”
He said, “yes,”
“I don’t want you to leave me,” she said,
“This will only make me love you more,” he replied.

She gave in.
She opened the door.

Then came his withdrawal:
slow texts,
no calls,
sleepless nights,
cracking heart,
slowly tearing her apart.

Then came the words
she dreaded to hear:
He said, “My feelings were never real.”

It was a one-sided love
an imaginary world.

This was the story
of a naive little girl,
who fell in love carelessly,
and got her heart broken

She once believed in love,
but now her eyes have opened
to see this cruel world.
She has finally concluded that love is not real,
just a temporary emotion.
Here one day and gone the next,
but yet people still fall into it regardless of the effects.

Breaking glass and crushing stone
Anger’s mask with irritation’s bone
I'll be crass and make insult moan
And bask in that defiant groan.

Curse the world and let it burn
With offense hurled and faces stern
Lips down curled from opined slur
Let flags furl and fill future's urn.

I don’t care for your stupid glare
Or superior air, go back to your lair
And never share that seed with a pair
My mind's a solar flare to your bargain bin brain fair.

When it all goes to **** and the skit
Calls for your respite, are you going to be there
For the bare skinned hanging mid-air
By fingers gripping wet wasp stingers
Getting pelted by insult slingers?

Or will you hide from those stones and venom
Let slide the froze-to-bone, not help ‘em

The onlookers lovingly smile as I plummet.

There's something missing here.

You see me now
An obelisk
Rising over the barren battlefield of old
A relic of wars past
Or was it that other thing
In which all thing's fair?

I’ve always found it easier
To define myself by what I’m not
Because I don't want to be cheesy or
Whatever, so I started smoking ***
And doing things that made my parents queasier
Than if they’d just eaten a bunch of my socks.

But now I don't know who I am
Like, I don't have a defining feature
And it feels like my future is just a sham
Because I’m just an ideology preacher
So pick something and be it, don't be just a **** creature.

Skin torn away and muscle fibers frayed
Bones dry rotted and tendons snapped
Relentless digging delivered disaster
But at least I know now
There's nothing special to me
There's nothing special.

So now that I’m broken and alone
Nothing but edge to hone
All that's left is to be the scythe
Unsheathed and bare before barren fields
And I’ll reap what's sown.