Carnage

Tales of broken men resulting in obliterated pens
Every page looks like a crime scene
For each pen bleeds with profusion trying
To encompass their pain, their self deprecation and loneliness

All doused in cologne and witty banter
And pick up lines that let them down on occasion
You stick around and wish to see beyond the fabricated exterior (which is very flamboyant, might I add)
Acquaint yourself with the immaculate design of the interior

The juxtaposition of beauty and decay
But you can’t help but feel inferior
He makes pit stops out of destinations (Or have you forgotten) It’s all mapped out, but you don’t make use of your compass
And there’s no northern star

But here you are, hearing but not listening, not attending, just feeling.
Essentially betrayed by your senses
Wanting to sit it out and enjoy the ride
For how broken could a broken man really be?

As I recall there is no room for product recalls, not even warranty
But you still immerse yourself in this
Hoping that he could love you with a broken heart
And consider you with a warped mind
Care for you with non existent feelings

And kiss you with numbed senses
And you could fix him
But it doesn’t happen that way
Not for broken girls anyway - TBM