METAPHORICAL POEMS TO GET RID OF PESSIMISM

Enchanté. Je suis un jeune homme. Je suis de la art.

An aromantic romantic show.

Girls and boys
Men and women.
Young adults,
Hormones.
Sex in the air.
Flirts.
Kisses.
Romanticism.
Some couples.
Some felt orgasms.
Others were dating
There were those who hurt from rejection.
While I?
Nobody attracted me.
I gave a seductive smile to those who found me attractive.
But hearts were fragile.
Enthralling.
My daggers were tired from so much
cut ties.
Incubated men fell in love with my debauched appearance.
Fall into sexual traps.
When they saw my fangs,
they ran scared of me.
Hurt women ran into my arms.
I treated them like princesses.
Like queens.
Even though I don't care about chocolates and flowers.
I'm already made of flowers.
I don't need to make bouquets or receive.
Do you wonder what this tale portrays?
you imagine me as a cheater.
Treacherous.
Liar.
that kills the pure heart.
But if I tell you that I was killed.
Behind my smudged lipstick smile.
Makeup that makes my eyes beautiful.
I've cried a lot for people.
I already tore my clothes and costumes
by those who wanted me dead.
They molded me like a puppet.
Nowadays, who sees me as a beautiful being.
He would have to deceive himself.
And my dagger would cut the bond.
So sad.
So cruel.
Without the romance of movies.
Theater.
Books.
I became a prostitute.
Model.
My smudged makeup brings art
of mocking melancholy.
Attractive.
Vulgar.
that enchants whoever sees me.
I give him a cynical laugh in response.
Along with warm, bright tears.
Men knelt to me, A man without heart or mercy.
Women would have a sparkle in their eyes when they pass by. An emotional man.
I shine.
I charm.
Even with my melted skin.
Even with my torn costume.
Even bloody.
Even laughing after crying.
Even though all my popped jewelry sparkled.
I am the unconscious attraction of the human being.
Sexual desire.
Romantic.
But in turn.
I won't repay you.
I'm not going to have sex with you.
I'm not going to date you.
I won't touch you.
I won't kiss you.
Aromantic romance.
A prostitute who wouldn't let you touch me.
A traumatized mix.
Without passion,
And damaged.
I take my cigarette and inhale smiling.
Laughing.
I enchanted a boy similar to me.
I enchanted a girl opposite me.
He, on the other hand, would like everything I refuse or cannot offer.
She would just appreciate me, and she would see beauty in my feelings and shining jewels in my eyes.
I dance like a boy.
I laugh like a girl.
I put out the cigarette butt
and bathed in ink.
Showing that I.
Prostitute I am the personification of your unconscious desire for attraction and art.
But never the one that will satisfy your desires.

Enchanté!