I applied for jobs.
So when I have a life,
I can spend the money I will earn.

Funny because even now, without jobs at hand.
I manage to run out of time.
And run,

Book read today.
Happily Ever After.
What are we signing ourselves up for.

Romance sets the bar too low.
Romance isn’t romantic enough.
Romance fails where life succeeds.
Fresh, alive, scary, committed.

People just want more.
Its not that they don’t get enough.
Supply and demand of romance.
The genre that finances,
Bankrolls – publishing.
Two dollar books
“mummy porn”
dirty, smutty, cheap.

You sell yourself and love,
ROMANCE short.
Cheap thrills rot the mind.
Lazy love. A shame.
Romance my be a religion.
It forms a transient basis for us to improve upon.

Feminists. Writers. Academics.
Child, man or woman alike.
We can still take the good bits-
hate and discard the rest.
What ammunition! What a revolting case.
Hot sex. Original, unbelievable,
Cliche, norms, bores, binaries,
cringe, idealistic.
Sticky pages.

Why are there so many pages?
Does this mood have to be set?

A short story of plot.
You tell, and tell and tell and tell.
This happened. Then this.
And now sex. Reward.
Dog treats.

I will keep the good bits.
But shame on you for not pushing the boundary.
Such grey-area smut.
But “not the worst novel i’ve ever read”

I will not let myself take the hateful stance.
Shame on you,
Shame on us all.
You break my heart.

Its unreal,
just how I feel.

Where is my happily ever after.
Write me that, so I might call it drole.

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