No Return, Bruh

No return, Bruh
No halcyon days
No pretty pictures
that never were
I sell myself
timeshare, real estate
of paradise past
but you know you full of shit
you know you marketing
you want to sell an idea.
my job is to sell ideas
writing is selling ideas
that we’re happy
that we’re together
that we’re one big fucking family
that people want to help
I just want to be real
I just want a home
I want a real estate in my head
I want that 4 room home
I want that dinner at the table
tell-me-about-your-day fantasy
those feelings on feelings
fabricated on meh moments
meh meh meh meh meh
and you look back like
that was nice but
you were anxious
you were longing
you were waiting
to create another paradise past
but I’m going to be honest
Honest, I felt right in your arms
Honest, I lied when I said
I don’t love you anymore.
Bruh, but I don’t know if I do love you anymore.

Is it just time and space? I miss your face.
We’re just floating around accidental like, Jenny!