Intentional Daggers (Maniacal is Comical)

Intentional Daggers
By: Uriah "The CivILLian" Walters; The Escribe Adventurist

Roses held a reddish embellishment upon rosy cheeks because my mold of think was to smother thee with a number of cliche heartbroken lines.

Such as, "I can't live without you
nor would I want to even when it seems I have to.
I have to take a shovel and dig past my chest til I find my heart
but it isn't there.
For I took the scissors and knives and carved it out just to give them to you."

I figure saying that with a hint of subtle softness would promote a gesture that would let you put down that social blockade.
But I almost feel like a jester. Just a cunning jester for knowing that sweet talk is what got you into the status you're at in the first place, yet still I persist.

"You are the harvester that I grow my garden for with diligent working hands, that would go and prepare a place for you to nest in."

And what's worse is, that the words and letters go run-o-the-mill the more I speak to you, knowing my cards are being played and I'm running out of maneuvers.
And we'll once again trickle down to that inevitable break-up where I'm labelled a jerk for taking your everything and smashing it with no remorse... then subtly moving on.

All the while, my skills in buttery linguistics to butter up a mistress grows as the next girl listens to my tales of us, and how I reminisce it.

"...And the whisper in her lips
Became the shouting cry in my ink pen.
Illustrating her heart as her tears
Carved scars...

...Holding on to that small piece of her..."

To which another pretty lady is swooned to my addiction that brought them to doom.