I wonder what life looks like without fear clouding my eyes
I wonder if I'm aromantic, or just traumatized
Expressing love is scary as fuck, especially when the act has been a weapon of mistrust
Romanticism seems like fun, then I see some of ya'll and I'm like "dam that sucks"
Am I a realist who has emotionally matured?
Or cynical off what I have emotionally endured?
I let them convince me that I didn't know what love was, cluing me into life for the vulnerable amongst us
I was on my Deborah Cox fully unwilling to discuss
I'd sent my heart miles away before, why would I do it more than once?
But we don't do as we say, no, we do as we please
My heart signed up for this pain
My mind must have a disease
We don't do as we say
No, we do as we please, and I would do it again to get you closer to me
I wonder...
