You can keep wrapping yourself up in your cloak of mystery. The stench of that mystery will keep enticing me to reach for you and maybe let you break my heart. You see, that’s how dumb I am.
This is me reliving my folly of a love that I once had for you.
I used to call it “puppy love.” That whenever I see you my heart would jump off the cliff and race you to the hills. When it gets there, alone, I will let it dance ’till it settles down. All that in a matter of seconds. I never understood why I liked you though. It was just there like a shadow following me even in the dark. I look at you and I know I like you. I understood it that way and nothing more. No other reasons: none that concerns the purity of your heart which I never even had the privilege to know. None that concerns how you might take care of me when I need the words or the touch that would speed up the return of spring. But that was that.
Now, here you come springing back only to offer a loveless love: an adventure. A trail to the past with extra vibrant passion coming from the wrong places. And all these places point down south of me even when I would like to face only the north of you. But thus, an adventure is an adventure. Even with a broken compass, I may have insinuated a “yes” for a reply.
Any positive vibe could only have side effects and do nothing good to me right now. Any drug or any vaccine for a broken heart like mine could only work in one way and one way alone: poison. That even if you could excellently build me up or even if you could majestically sweep me off my feet, I would never even need that because I know; deep down, I will end up yearning for you.
Whether you are an angel with black wings or a devil with a pure heart, your kind of mystery is strong enough for a bait to reel me in. And as you long as you stay there in heaven, hell or wherever you fucking live, I’d be here waiting and praying to have you take me to an adventure. Until then, I can only imagine you here meeting me down where the figs lie.