Mr Man.

Is it weird that my heart desperately wants to know.

Who you are, what you are, and where you grow?

Are you plant, a mammal, a reptile, an angel, or something else?

Because I would like to know if you live in the forest, in heaven, or with myself.

Are you meant for me, or someone, or another person?

Cause I keep trying to ring your number, to figure out the version.

Of who you are, and what you are, and when you are meant to be in my life.

But my mistake, it was and will always be a start of another re-write. 

For where my heart went wrong, and left me more darkness to roam around me at night.

As now, and every time he appears at the brink of night, holding browned red stained weapon and charging with all his might.

It is all the devils work.

And he is the one to blame, for deflowering my pure heart, with his pearly whites, and hallucinating gaze.

Cause I was too starstruck, and realized all too late.

That we are always meant to be star crossed lovers, intwined in fate.

So why did I not listen to the monsters under my bed, who spoke more truth than his nonsense.

And told me without him I would start a cycle of never ending healing.

To a process of emotional concealing.

Cause I blame my heart for veering off track.

So never love another again, and let me take you instead.

I will touch you, tease you and leave a feeling you would never fail to forget.

For you will love it more than all love made you regret.

So Mr Man, you don't equate love to a penny, a nickel, or a dime.

So be it, I rule in the end of my time.

Hopeful romantic no more, but an object of men's lust and desire for sex till night till dawn.

Then I wish you heart farewell, and a sorry once more.