I don't love. I just don't. It's something I couldn't do.
Every time I try, some wire in our brains fry, conversations run dry
All in the game we call relationships become problems.
I love being single, though, I've grown so comfortable being alone.
It's not a pain, there's nothing I feel I would've gained, sex is sweet, but I'm fly, so it comes cheap like a bird I fly as solo as can be
My life is club Kyn and there is no room for relationships in my section.
But there's always that one fucking exception.
In comes Ms. Perfect, soon to be Ms. Rose I hope, the way her style flows and her skin glows she must have a rope somewhere in that purse because I'm all tied up in emotions
Her language is my potion, she's perfectly imperfect, I can wake up next to her every day.
But is it worth it?
I have no idea. The devil in me says fuck that, the angel in me says fuck it. Finding love is never a thing in my bucket, but there I go, diving in the concept. She's so hot, yet, something in my brain wires right, burning all that ice-cold energy I had.
"Ah, you must be cute, my name is Kyn", she grins, we spin into this thing we call romance, you could swear that I don't dance in relationships the way I'm so stuck. I know. All I said must've been a lie, but I promise I was never that guy.
Club Kyn turns more into restaurant Kyn, with 2 seats overlooking the sunset, and the finest comfort food.
Only the universe knows where this relationship may go, love is like a river, and they row, like a boat in Turks and Caicos.
I just hope neither of us sink, and ruin all the beautiful programming that's in the places our brains think. If that were to happen we'd be done in a blink, our relationship dies, they go release the dove, and one of us go saying a stupid quote like the first sentence above.