here we prevail again, my love fading

the agony of your soul unpleasant

an imagery of a future that you will never have

with me,

connect the dots, your misery is familiar with

the conventions

soliciting satan, coming closer to my malevolence.

the enthusiastic utopian inside of me perished,

the chance that was allotted, was nothing but a way for you to take me for granted,

to live down the bare minimum,

to prove me right, every time.

pretend? i can't pretend to be a saint,

in a world where you can't even compromise.

you pick up a gun, point it at my throat

as if i will beg you to stay, as if

i will plead for your love.

darling, meet my demons.

they will excite your groundings,

mark your skin darkly, even if

you don't even belong to me.