June 30, 2006

I Destroy Hearts



I want to be a heartbreaker. Not necessarily with claws, mind you, but I want to be able to break someone's heart. I don't think I'd be able to do it, except in retaliation, and even then, I'd have to be feeling particularly bitter at that moment.

I just want the opportunity, or the ability, rather. Whatever I have in the looks department is definitely on the cute/boy-next-door vein, and I'm no ladies man, no Tom Cruise circa 1991, no Brad Pitt circa whenever. My body is in no way shape or form the kind to elicit longing stares on the beach. I'm far too easy-going to be detached and aloof. I don't think I could do it, even unintentionally.

Or maybe I just want someone's heart to break. I get easily attached, and I'm the one who's heart always gets broken. I want to just see how the shoe feels on the other foot, or whatever that metaphor is.
Here lies a most ridiculous raw youth, indulging himself in the literary graces that he once vowed to eschew. Now he just rocks out.