I wonder what life looks like without fear clouding my eyes
I wonder if Iʼm 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 yall and Iʼm 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
Iʼd sent my heart miles away before, why would i do it morе than once?
But we donʼt do as we say, no, wе do as we please
My heart signed up for this pain
My mind must have a disease
We donʼt do as we say
No, we do as we please, and I would do it again to get you closer to me

I wonder...