The Irony in our hearts

My greatest weakness
is my greatest strength.
I even have to be ironic in that regard,
what fuckin’ achievement.
But who am I telling this?
You should know what the irony feels like.
You got me of your mind for reasons, good or bad  
at the moment the were
justified in your head and
there it is where the flirtation ends for you.
I believe
you were forced to forget for too long

and you became too good at it.
I know it is pointless
what I say.
You will see what you want to see in my words,
and blablabla life goes on;
it doesn’t have to,
I don’t want it to,
not without you,
even though you would never allow yourself to just jump with me.
Because I could destroy you
and a part of me
is happy about that you don’t want to even try us
– not consistently – 
necessary,
for what I would want for us.
My restraint might come from the fact,
that if someone can destroy me,
it is you.
So when I sit in front of you.
I don’t try to see the woman, I want, with the brilliant mind
and the long, by god handmade legs and
the eyes that could put any man through hell.
The woman that can smell blood underwater.
I try to see just a random girl
and you make it hard for me,
to not just fall again.
If you saw a boy in me, that is your problem.
What I was,
was a man
who desperately tried to keep it together and to himself and I couldn’t even manage that.
After all these excuses
– they are nothing more than that –
and it is late,
I am not allowed to go to bed, 3.am 
the other voice in my head just sounds right again;
the voice I consider to be me.
That is proud to be
pathetically in love.
So whatever the point of all of this was for you,
Magdalena – Jesus woman
just know.
I can’t read your fake face, I saw your many
and while I could kiss/fuck/kill all of them,
they all are deceiving,
on that evening
I just don’t know
which one it was I talked to.

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