Not to Show Love

I choose not to show love.

Doesn’t mean within I don’t yield love

but is expression of it worth it, when they always target your loved ones?

I’ve done dirt in the past

and I can’t show them you’re the one I love

because my victims might snatch you from me at any time.

 

I choose not to show love,

for what good is expression of love,

when mere likes repel?

She learned that I love her, then started to rebel.

She liked me, but disliked me when I reached out to her heart for more.

Perhaps she had already chosen not to show love.

cupid

 

I choose not to show love,

for I know how it feels to be robbed off love.

I’d rather go back to my dirt,

in my loved ones hearts leaving no traces of it.

No love relics.

In that way, I’ll spare my loved ones the weight of missing me once I perish.

 

I choose not to show love,

for the person you love mirrors who you are. But mirrors break.

With blood, dirt, shit and all filth my hands are filled.

And with my touch, I don’t wanna get your tender, chubby cheeks blemished.

Besides, I’m not even certain that your heart beats in the same rhythm as mine.

That’s why I choose not to show love.

Out the Dirt I Came

See deep down for all I mean good.

But I’m not the type to divulge what’s cooking,

all that matters to me is that you’ll eventually nod approval to my food.

You can bet that I despise blowers of own horns.

The type that doesn’t hood up in rain, to merely flaunt a new hairdo.

The same type to grant then rant I loathe.

The type to tap then yap,

on your face clap, behind your back stab,

kiss and tell,

that type, should dwell in hell.

dirt1

But instead it’s I who dwells in hell,

for being able to tell; in both senses of “tell”,

the self-aggrandizement that flips human tails to heads

and heads as tails instead.

But I only got one question for you Mrs Kind,

If the world wasn’t watching in readiness to judge,

would you still be “Mrs Kind”?

Ignorance indeed is bliss because out the dirt I came in search for bliss,

and since ignorance is synonymous with bliss,

then out the dirt I go back blissfully, devoid of bliss.