I once met a man made out of steel;- but he was too afraid
To disclose all the hearts he stole, instead pointing out
All the love he had bought, as one constantly waiting for
What’s in store. The wise con artist selling out dreams
Only to lonely fools, who buy into flightless ideas-
Such tall ideas, with the promise of giving them wings

And to those he came to meet;- his very eyes carved up
Their bodies, to offer as fresh sushi; a bloodlust fishman,
Holding a charm with such impeccable practice
He spoke love’s language, with words sharp as knives
Cutting all costs, to make any love feel exorbitantly priced;

Alas I present myself to you- the author of such dreams
I am a halibut; playacting to have tough flesh underneath,
Drowning in the endless submerging feeling, of love
Swimming an entire life; sinking deeper by a heart of steel,
Still, anything that must breathe, must certainly bleed.

As when I bought a taste of love, it indeed
Tasted like my very own blood!