#lacklustre
you are a romantic griever
nothing but a sleeve
you are (truth to tell) just as me
and my need for me is temporary
agents assigned the both of us
blazing careless emitters
and blooded self deceiving receivers
learn to burn better
but become weary aging
suited loosely but saging
with query and feed till the last
this could be about freeing oneself
through cathartic reinvention
(just don't mention the balance)
we who never were
must still be policed
and the plastics are getting thinner
and reality is more challenged
than it ever was before
Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 12:44 PM UTC
Do you remember the carousel you took me to, on our first date?
The twists and turns still taunt me.
Round and round, as obsession started to leave a rotten taste in my mouth.
A severe sting, chewing sandpaper like candy-floss to erase your name from the tip of my tongue.
You had already made it into my blood stream, love drunk.
On Budweiser served in plastic bottles, I flip filthy ride tokens like they're gold coins. You became treasure to me.
Darling, the ghost train has nothing on you.
I fell for you hook line and sinker, unfortunately you continued to play. Crashing, I no longer gave myself time to recuperate.
We moved like clock work, to feed on the exhilaration we desired.
As I grind to a halt, you stubbornly carry on.
Until rusted exhaustion kicks in, misshapen and misused.
I hold my breath to **** the yearning in my throat, make the butterflies drop dead.
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 6:22 AM UTC