The important thing about Emmy

was that her hair was made of dripping ink

and smelled like hidden libraries. 

Her daily sweaters displayed her mood

as yarnish things tend to do.

When I fell in love with her,

I called her the Lost Girl,

and my world was painted with moth wings.

She left me on a warm sunday afternoon, 

my vision blurred and dripping.


The important thing about Jack

was that he resembled a golden starling

and spoke like a mystery train.

His drawings of lions and tigers and glass

drew me to his invisible wings.

When I fell in love with him,

I called him Birdchild,

and my palms ached for his taloned grasp.

When I found I couldn't fly, 

he soared into the sun without me.


The important thing about Dane

was that he was forever in disguise

switching out masks for different girls.

His cloak colored like bruises and blood

hid his untouched skin of deception.

When I fell in love with him,

I called him the Gamesmaster,

and I wished for his eyes to land on nothing but mine.

He vaporized on a cold winter's day,

the hearts he stole, and mine, trailing behind him.


The important thing about Alex

was that his fingers trailed shadows

and his eyes burned crosses into swollen hearts.

His mind ran wild with fearful veins

writing it all down with a raven's quill.

When I fell in love with him, 

I called him the Ripper,

and I felt my heart bathing in darkened pain.

He waltzed away unbloodied,

leaving me alive on the mortician's doorstep.


The important thing about Stell

was that her angelicly childish image

concealed a stainglass hearted demon.

Her words were deceptive and deadly

but addicting like watching struggles.

When I became engulfed in her stony soul,

I adressed her only as the Devil,

and romantization overtook my sorrowed mind.

She still lays active to this day,

corrupting those around her, and me, from time to time.


But, the important thing about me

is that I love myself this way.

I fall in love consistently,

never stopping, ever switching,

for it brings joy to my existence

to adore and romanticize others,

to see the fairy-tale and the fantasy 

and to embrace it with elation.

Love, in itself, is awesome.


This poem is about: 


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