I have inflated love’s currency.
It’s cheap and doesn’t go very far.
My heart is made of plastic.
Charge it to the game.
Will I have a name?
Am I to be exploited for bragging rights?
Maybe I’ll just be someone he was fucking for a bit.
Or perhaps I will be forgotten altogether.
The only part he cared for is the part that related to him.
It is easy to lose yourself in the arms of a selfish lover.
It wasn’t the time we shared.
It was the time he killed, with me.
I break every heart, especially my own.
I’ve no insecurities left. Even less worry.
Zero hope. I knew this would come.
The coin is in the air. I didn’t bother to call it.
11 November 2013
It’s Friday, I’m Not In Love by Sophia Blacke is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.