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Tilt-A-Whirl.
your tilt a whirl love spell paints me into a corner,
again, leaving me to nothing but myself, swallowed by guilt,
i turn inward with surgical precision, to severe all that i feel, with masochistic pleasure, over past scars that have healed, i've done this before, i am no stranger to the games that get played, i have grown cold starved by your words, just a worm in decay, beneath the bruise of your face, and the curve of complaints, how it's never good enough anymore, as you always seem to be making a point, that it's not even worth saying, i'm sorry, without landing your strike, just the spite of fed up with, yesterdays, you seek to avenge, with time well spent, plotting your revenge, against the one you onced love, seeking to replace weakness for strength, must there always be, a means to an end?
am i just a landing strip from which everyone takes flight?
is love a lesson i'm skilled and sufficient enough to speak on? are my answers to your questions, the equivalent of honey and feather wings capable of allowing you to fly, beyond your wildest dreams? will you heed my warning and stay far from the sun shining, lest you fall from the sky, with only the memory of how you died trying?
impossibly.
