When they say just move on when the bad boy who you thought will love you, broke your heart.
When they tell you calm down when you are angry and bitter towards the world that you could create an earthquake.
When tell you you’re beautiful but that boy you fancied just left you for another prettier girl.
When they say it gets better and you are ready to destroy yourself cause nothing numbs your pain; no cigarette, no cup of coffee.
When they tell you stay strong but you feel so damn weak because you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
But sometimes all you need is a cliche:
Move on when the jerk broke your heart, out there is a boy dying to have you.
Scream, shout and destroy everything around you but calm yourself down and forgive the world one more time.
Yes, she might prettier, but does she have an universe inside of her like you have? Will she write him a poem like your? No.
It gets better, no matter how crushed you are. The sun. the moon and the stars shine only for you. Don’t give up, tomorrow you will smile.
You have the right to fall but get up and lift the world with you. And they will bow for you.
My soul is always naked for someone to explore it, for someone to look at it but never to touch it.
My heart only works at night, trying to attract someone who would spend the night hearing what lustful desires it beats for cause in the daylight I would regret you.
My mind can’t stop looking for someone to love me. I flirt with anybody that smiles out of politeness but I always confuse it with desire. I keep on falling in love with strangers in the dirty corners of train stations and forgettable kiosks. I don’t know when I befriended desperation but now I can’t get rid of it. And if you can suck my feelings out of me I swear I could fall in love with you.
I am not selling any part of myself, I will give it to you for free as long as you promise you will love my darkness. I always use somebody to fuck me over just so I can hate them because I am damn tired of loving them.
I am a whore full of feelings and emotions. I take hearts so I can pay my rent to the art I am living in. I am a whore and Love is my pimp.
Do not turn me into a monster.
If you put your ear up to my heart, and hear the dark beast that sleeps inside of me; you would think twice before you challenge me if I can destroy you. Because I know, it wants out to breathe the human air and feed itself with fear. I have so many scratches on my heart because of it. Always fighting with me to let it out.
Do not turn me into a monster.
Because once I let it out, the jungle in my heart will froze and there will be no sun shining in my head no more. Only diamonds of ice that will crave human blood. Passion runs through my veins as if it is supposed to win a marathon but once I change passion will run through my veins as if it is on a spree killing.
Do not turn me into a monster.
I love, I love, I love. That is what I feed the dark beast but God; we all know hate and revenge taste just a bit more luxurious. I cannot afford paying such a high price but I adore what it lives inside of me. I do not mind stealing brains and souls when the animal inside of me is hungry. I will love you, oh my Goodness will I love you… but damn I would hate you even better.
She devours my poetry and then throws it up into a vomit of words. And she tries to paint them with colors that only exists in my mouth. Somehow, she compares her sadness to mine, and sometimes she would love to possess a madness that only my veins design.
I do not want to be a part of her… I did not create her, but she feels created by my poetry. She uses my poetry as a muse to justify her love, for a boy who lost his heart down the road of a life full of affairs. And I don’t believe in her, because she knows nothing about love nor poetry. Therefore, don’t you use my words for your dirty little lustful heart.
I am not your hustler, and you are not my streetwalker.
When I realized that we were not a Hollywood movie, I stopped fighting for you. We are young but love is too old for our childish desires. You said I was beautiful and I confused that with I love you. Goddamn, that was a fatal mistake. If I learned something from our melodrama, it is that boys do not fall in love with pretty girls but they fall in love with good hearts. Moreover, that is when I realized that we are not a Hollywood movie, when you did not save me from the dragon. You cannot save me without killing me. Hollywood will kiss your lips for the public and leave bruises on your skin behind closed doors. I was too much of a scandal for you to be seen with me. We started as a romantic comedy; flirting with written story lines like those famous actors. Only to end as a tragedy with no successful conclusion.
When I realized that I did not want to fight for you anymore, I thought maybe I loved you for the press… Maybe I loved being on the cover of a gossip magazine… I am shallow; I loved you for the attention.
I wonder what it is like to be loved by someone so intensely that you forget you are human. Such an electric love that will electroshock you to the point where you can light up this whole town. I wonder what is like to break your teeth on your lover’s neck.
I dream of a love made of darkness and desperation. Scratching your lover’s skin so the stardust can bleed on your mattress. Therefore, both of you can become one universe.
I am curious to know what it like to be madly kissed in the dirty corners of a jealous city, against a graffiti wall. And for the people to force you into rehab because this affair keeps you so high, you keep on seeing a pink sky and clouds of candyfloss.x
- N x
