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You claim to know love but you love like a man and I love like a writer. True Love was never known by the likes of you. Love was never found in the ones of your like-mindedness.
You accuse me of not knowing love, while you discard my pain and value only yours. While you step upon my feelings to bring yours as the only true ones.
You utter that you have loved and thus you are superior to me, for I only write about it. My view of it may be unrealistic but it looks like love more than the one you claim as one in this sick world.
So don't yell at me, trying to convince me to be less. Don't call me dumb for not lowering my brunch for others to reach. The ones that are worthy will climb. The ones that are capable will break through my barriers. Stop asking me to tame my soul to win the love of any man. For I don't even want such egoistic love. Such a sick twisted loneliness. Such cruelty to sleep by my side just so my body won't be alone.
Even if I am unrealistic, I won't choose a reality that is not right. I won't be wrong just because everyone else is just so I can avoid loneliness. You can't speak of my pain, for you have never felt it like I. You can't speak of the power of my soul or the weakness of it for you had never had it.
You can't say I don't know love, just because I don't embrace the one you call so. Your eyes see to your height and mine to mine. I don't make your pain less, your feelings less, so you don't have the right to make mine either.
I walk in my steps and you in yours. And I respect you for what you are, so why can't you? You speak of love in a way that makes me hate it.
I would rather die a million times and I would choose loneliness over and over again, for if I can't have the one I consider love, this realistic one is worthless.
It's too little to ever deserve the title love, to begin with.
(Someone pissed me off some minutes ago and I just wrote this to vent. )
