A light on the screen.
Vanished in the third scene
and I wonder why you never appear again.
Come to bed, Cross Sugarman
so my obsession may finally fall sleep.
But only after a sudden realization.
An end to this heartbreaking fascination.
The idea of you.
Back then, it was all a game
with giggles and codenames
and shy stares that seemed meaningful.
At least, they were to me.
Who knows if you were aware.
As every tale or memory recounts
the strong knight who is a brave knave
and then understanding settles
that he isn't the one, the love, the right.
But where is my lay? My fuck? My screw?
Instead, these years burn
and you prance around with other sirens,
the Serenas you were with, or were you?
How sad it makes me.
The mud of my feelings splashed on my face.
A confirmation of their irrelevance.
In fact, wasn't it just a childlike expression?
I didn't really care as much as I said?
The depression? The aggression?
Did I really think he was my possession?
And what answer do I cede?
No, it was all fake. It was phony.
He is not my catcher, my savior.
He is but a scratch on my lifeline.
A spit. A hormonal blip.
I have grown just the same as all
and he was not worthy.
But inside, I break.
Well, what else am I to do?
What is real anymore and what isn't.
Betrayed by my own body.
My heart, my head, my emotions.
All I ask is a chance
to be used, abused, exploited
in the way I never was.
I would pay, a million ways,
for him to stab me
and be the perpetrator
than to bathe in the blood
of a disillusioned love
and be my own victim.