Life isn’t like being backstage where
we can pull back the thick red curtains and scream
at the actors for not playing their parts well.
It’s not like a rehearsal where everything is predestined,
the pieces falling together seamlessly into place.
We’re never really the ones seating at the director’s chair
telling whose turn it is to step into focus and whose turn it is to
fade into black.
It’s more like a film where the ending is unpredictable,
where the boy doesn’t get the girl and the girl turns out to be
a hundred year-old werewolf with fresh blood on her hybrid hands.
I told you already, I don’t want to do shit with any romance bull.
We both know it’s tragedy we want, because our hearts are torn up
and a cheesy sweet piece of eye candy
ain’t gonna heal any of those uneven parts.
YOU ARE READING
Love Games
PoesíaA compilation of poetry about destructive love, on how it dooms and redeems us in the strangest of ways.