I date for poetry, is that too cruel?
When some boys treat love like a game.
A quest of collecting hearts like jewel,
To loot a bunch is cool and few is lame.
When some girls treat boys like clothes,
An apparel to flaunt, a display.
Change attire when the time comes,
Who likes overworn togs anyway?
For me, boys are the knives I need,
The sweet blades of a sharp promise.
To stab my heart and make it bleed,
To drown me in perfect fantasies.
I mean, I'm doing the players a favor,
My heart is an item, come and get it.
The heartbreak is what I came for,
I am someone you can play with.
I feel bad for the hearts unmending,
For those who didn't come to play.
Even I, sometimes grow tired of playing,
Scars linger a little too long some days.
But this is a loveless generation anyway,
The Medieval for hopeless romantics.
So let me be ruthless in my own way,
Let me play the games with my own tricks.