Romantic cynicism This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

November 3, 2012
you named me cynical
because I knew not how to speak
jasmine words

I uttered roses that cut my bottom lip
spilling blood down my chin,
as they rushed past my tongue, teeth, mouth
you asked if I read romance,
and upon my refusal
you labelled me cold-hearted, distant, cold

but I am not
I am simply violently in love
with my own definition of romance

don't bring me flowers,
instead, kiss water lilies in the base of my neck
and purple lilac along my ribcage

don't bring me any chocolate,
I'm a salty person -
I'd poke your eyes with my fingers
just to taste your tears

don't lit candles,
instead lit a cigarette, smoke with me
under the prying, unapproving eyes of the galaxy
empty your lungs of air,
and I promise, I'll empty my heart of cynicism

lose track of time with me, let us get lost
don't count the minutes, hours,
don't count the number of days

count the number of raindrops, snowflakes,
count the number of my breaths
(but never hope they would exceed infinity)

don't chase busses in the yawning mornings,
don't run
caress the stony pavement with your toes
as if it was grass or sand
because it is just as beautiful to the eyes and touch,
stars are pretty, too
but I'll teach you how to catch fireflies,
and how to blow smoke rings that yearn to merge
with the moon,

I'll teach you how to hear the night
I'll teach you how I experience love.

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