unrequited love is better than bdsm

any form of adoration

disgusts me

unless it’s yours

the poets

begin to gag

repulsed by cliche galore

vomiting onto remains of dead trees

the same

meaningless nonsense as I

the sculptures

can’t contain themselves from laughing at misfortune

they begin to bleed from their eyes

their eyes

recollect the fragments

of this hilarity we call love

you say

I’m so predictable

you know exactly what I’m thinking of

well I say

you don’t know

cause my mind is a void

you say

our love was for show

the reviews came out and we got destroyed

but I’m

Still looking forward to

the second season

you say

I make you sick

so I’ll give you a reason

they call it modern romance

the thing we’ve become tired of

Can I ask you for one last dance,

my love?

the lights

in the concert hall

pierce your pale skin

you’re drunk

I can hear it

in your whines that make me grin

I have a couple

questions

that remain unanswered

but you

tiptoe around the subject

like a ballet dancer

what

do you see in him

that I don’t have?

Is it years

of experience?

if so, that’s so sad

If I could

I would make an

eternal sunset just for you

But I know

You get bored so easily

That’ll never do

So maybe tomorrow

you’ll provide

a response

Just say yes

to the dance

an infinite waltz

they call it modern romance

the thing we’ve become tired of

Can I ask you for one last dance,

my love?

Why do you

continue to

entertain the mindless tool?

He’s as good as

a slumbering audience

with pools of drool

The things

he tells you

I can’t stand it

If I were

as fortunate as he

You’d never be taken for granted

You ask why

I still

Stick around

It’s because

once I heard your frequency

An unmatchable sound

I’ll run

out of words

to say before I stop loving you

I’m running an

endless marathon

just to prove it true

Even when

you’ve got nothing to say

I still want to hear all about it

But do you

have the same sensations?

I doubt it

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