you loved and destroyed me
*but came back with tragedy

it's been there, then it's *gone

you fell for the looks, but not for the happiness

You could see the light growing bigger and brighter
when I broke down on all what had been lost on a whim
To sentiments tainted by a vigorous crimson
Blood-shaded hatred directed at no one in particular
But there had been moments of wonder exclusive to us
Crawling inside me like the veins in my vessel
You are my only shelter, grand savior in hell
I traded my soul just to ease all this pain
Of driving your caress and friendship away
Escape to be found where you cannot follow
Contaminated with devils, mockingly teasing
Contemplating whether death will be soothing or bleeding
fear it or not, for it will bring peace upon me
and I’ll gladly follow down the emerald path
Hoping to receive mercy at the almighty crossroad
Facing none other than Her, I’ll stand naked in front of
The indestructible, curious spirit of the auburn-haired Lovegod.

The comic convention
has cardboard cutouts of
all of the main characters of
Harry Potter.

Harry,
Ron,
Hermione,
etc.
All motionless in a river of people,
glossy but worn down,
bathed in cold white halogen.

And one by one,
the cosplayers—
the Harrys
Rons
Hermiones,
etc.

Have their pictures taken
with the cutouts,
one cardboard cutout cut out
and replaced with a real human being.

Being human, we
crave companionship,
fear solitude,
crave solitude,
fear companionship.

We try to avoid becoming cardboard
cutouts of ourselves, but sometimes
a retreat into inanimacy
is what the animus needs.

The cosplayers continue to shuffle forward in line
each waiting to pose for a selfie.  Each
politely smiling at the living Harry Potter characters around them,

but not striking up a conversation.

this peculiar, petty feeling
i have, never felt it before...
thoughts of you in my head keep reeling
but it won't last forevermore

you keep turning your head to take a glance
and your curious eyes caught my sight
oh how it wants to make me dance
it even makes my heart take flight

yet, these overflowing feelings that I take hold
no matter how many time I talk to you
there is no spark or an ignited fire to behold
no longer will there be the button of undo

such a waste my words that my mouth has formed
knowing that you don't like me is such a forlorn