romance is a cripple.

romance got his knees broken today.

and I'm beneath the frozen surface of a pond.
pounding at the ice, dying for breath-
and he just looks down at me
glazed over and frost bitten.
unable to save me
smash his fists through till they bleed,
just to get to me;
like he promised he would.



this is not an attempt to be beautiful,
nor an attempt to portray myself like the artist
I am not.

it's just a fucking shitty piece
of lovesick-on-valentine's day
bullshit.
the kind you hate
and has to be extra special,
for you to be able to stomach it.

I'm not special enough for that.
I do not inspire trembling hands,
to pluck roses
and gently glide them across my skin.

I can see through these fucking relentless tears
that never fail to steal me of my pretence
of strength
and my "ballsy attitude."


all I am, and all I ever will be,

is an undeserving freakshow
of frayed neon emotions
on crack.



if I could I would
stab my eyes out into something too obscure
and pulverized
to be writhing in agony.
I would lay all my insides out on the kitchen counter,
and bring my hammer down
on all of it,
leaving my heart till last.
so it can feel me breaking everything I am
myself.


I just want to destroy everything
just so that nothing fucking hurts
in this stomach crushing way.



I want. to. fucking. give. up.



any moment now.. it'll snap..
and I will fall.



I'm set to stay in this icy water,
as the weeds curl themselves around my neck.
as he mouths silent words
creating cold clouds with his breath.




romance is crippled, and tucked away in a box
under my creakless bed.



just when I expected him to fly.