I wish I could write
All those happy thoughts
That I can never seem to
Cling on to

Instead everything always seems
To turn into
Salty saturated lashes
And woodpeckers invading my heart

I always find the most beautiful words
To perfectly contradict
Any sweet sentence
That may stumbles out of my mouth
As unnaturally as an ant
Birthing an elephant

My thoughts are a Nicholas Sparks novel
Sweet and enchanting
Until an inevitable death occurs
But unlike his love stories
My thoughts end at the death
And then press play again

Every happy moment
Is like a balloon floating up
With an unseen needle tied to the string
And if the wind blows just right..
POP
And the deflated and defeated balloon
Comes back down to me
The same material as before
But with a completely different appearance

So while I dream about
Falling in love
Wrapped up in handmade quilts
While sipping warm chai tea
Next to the fireplace
I will instead be right here
In my room
Sitting on the cold hardwood floor
Surrounded by four bland walls
Writing about everything that could be
But isn't
And patiently listening to the footsteps
Outside my door
Waiting for them to leave

This is the unfortunate life I lead
As a scarred and damaged romantic.