Fuck me raw and say you love me,
in this twisted carnival of half-truths,
where affection wears a mask,
and romance is the punchline of a joke
that nobody remembers.

They say love is a gentle whisper,
but I prefer a shout—
the kind that rattles windows,
echoes in the alleys where broken hearts roam,
as if to say, “Hey! We’re still here!”

So, tear down the façade,
unwrap the soft packaging—
let's peel back the layers of insecurity,
lay 'em out like a buffet of regrets;
I’ll serve you my flaws on a silver platter,
dressed in a vinaigrette of cynicism.

Underneath the blacklight of our shared madness,
I'll trade you my demons for a dose of laughter,
because who...