I’d fuck you up
without even blinking.
Not out of hate.
Just habit.

I’d lie smooth,
kiss sharp,
and leave you wondering what the hell happened
while I move on like you never existed.

You’re soft.
Sweet.
You think love can fix shit.
I think love’s a joke
people tell themselves
before they get wrecked.

I don’t do soft.
I don’t do loyal.
I get bored, I get distant,
I ghost people for breathing wrong.
You’d call it mixed signals.
I’d call it normal.

You’d try to stay.
Of course you would.
You’d think there’s something worth saving under all this wreckage.
There isn’t.
This is the whole show.

I’d take your good heart,
chew it up,
and hand it back like it was nothing.
And you’d still ask me what you did wrong.

So let me be clear:
don’t fucking fall for me.
Don’t get ideas.
Don’t play hero.
Don’t bet on me.

I don’t lose sleep
over the people I break.