Deep wrinkled, hollowed eyed, burned by the sun
flashes of red, crisscross onyx covered retinas.
No longer able to contain emotions,
hyperventilating, sweating, shaking, stomach flipping because I've never really liked roller coasters.
Reaching elevating highs, only to be overtaken by catapulting lows,
who in their right mind enjoys this?
Strapped in tight, blasting tunnels lit with
projections of stars, galaxies, asteroids, and other cosmological bodies,
cuz this SHIT is like outerspace,
and pretty little girls still believe in fairytales
like Cinderella, that glass slipper, Prince Charming and love.
But I'm not a little girl and I know better.
Love? Let me tell you about love,
cuz these movies, songs, and shit got it twisted!
Love isn't patient love isn't kind
And I'm not bitter I've just…been through enough to know that love is hard, love is mean, love is jealous,  love is insanity , a deluge of irrationality that will have you
PM Dawn singing "I'd Die without You"
Slipping in between happiness and sadness, on the brink of an emotional coma
Suffocating, cuz his love is the only thing that resuscitates you.
And with eyes full of molten lava, you let him have his way with you
emotionally rape you, let him fuck you then fuck you over
Strip you, penetrate you, leave you naked because
The things you thought you wanted, once louder than the heavens,
are now darker than the sky.
Loving him was an unsolvable sudoku puzzle
a bunch of numbers in squares that just didn't fit.
And now there are no pictures, no letters, nothing tangible to hold onto.
Only the transitory memory of how he used to love you.
"I remember the way you used to love me" singing in my Faith Evans voice
But I'm not Faith and this isn't a love song.
This is me envisioning our bodies, trapped in a lucid dream where butterflies metamorphasize into caterpillars and gusts of wind blow away the last traces of honey flavored kisses.
Recollections of newborn, can't sleep at night kind of love, a crying baby waiting to suckle its mother 's breast kind of love
Walks in central park in the summer just because kind of love
That type of, you can't breathe without me kind of love, air that pierced your lungs with life kind of love
And you, you would marvel at my beauty like I was some type of Van Gogh, Da Vinci painting and shit.
You were "Starry Nights" and I was the "Mona Lisa".
Until the day that you weren't,
Until the day that I wasn't.
Until the day "we" ceased to exist.