Lock, chains, broken hearts
cutting, knives
"Just shoot me."
You're killing me—
You are—
with all these damn phrases
My heart bleeds for you,
it really does,
doesn't beat for you
I put up with you
and you call yourself a poet,
mon amie,
with all these clichés?
Emo mess
you thing you are—
you fag—
I laugh
so dumb
so stereotyped
and that's why the posers
make the real ones look bad