A Psychiatrist would think that the problem is the fact that I want to squeeze you to death.
But I am well aware that the real problem is the fact that you would let me.
A Priest would say that I have lost faith in God
But actually, I have just lost faith in mankind; in myself; in destiny-
The last page of a creepy, cheap romance novel would promise, “and they lived happily ever after”
but I know that the only thing that comes after happily is begrudgingly or desperately-
An Astrophysicist might comment on our irrelevance in the solar system- that it existed and will continue to exist with or with out us until it no longer does
This I have not found a way to deny…
And all the meds in the world
And all the silent prayers
And all the selfish poetry of perverted people can’t compel me
To keep pretending that I love you anymore
Maybe I’m crazy and sick
Maybe I’m soulless and dying
Maybe I’m heartless but what I refuse to be
Is a Liar.