Any romantic art, whether it be poems or cinema. It’s an expression

of teases to those who hadn’t never experience love. But a slap to your

face for those who had meet that one and fell into the fear of following

through. Now your friends are watching your back and you’re too

near me. Let all poetry now, scorn you with truth, moths eating dreams,

fireflies to taunt. Embers over earth. Haunting methods to be felt in

flowing waves of regret and despair.

For nobody likes the ones in love. Sparking questions of ‘why can’t we

be like that?’ After they gasped in awe. Burning candles. For nobody

likes the ones in live. Only love can ever devalue progressed work

and any else, held to the chest in sentimentality. Hopeless romantics

now a career path in the arts. Teasing humanity with their words.

Smile for me now (couldn’t help noticing your pain).