Modern Romanticism

I cannot be one
to receive your mercy.
It’s as I’m never one
to deceive you into
eternal stagnation.

The truth will hurt,
because it will peel
back your layers,
to keep you
from going back
to your discolored,
fort of four walls.

There’s always more
to be said. I do not wish
to ever be tempted
to be the one to conceal
all you should reveal.

You’ll beg for me to be
everything you expect.
You’re not seeing me,
you’re not receiving me
with what you want.

I will not give it,
as I won’t forgive it,
the moment I do it.

You’re just a child
who stares at space
where there are only
those monsters,
those that enter
your dreams,
not your nightmares.