For decades now we have had fairy tales as a guideline for our expectations of love
These happily ever afters tho just aren’t quite honest enough
We have been programmed since we were lil girls
Love is tough, damn near impossible
It’s all just so implausible
Unfathomable really
With sleeping spells and dwarves, prickels and swords, frogs of prince’s and mice of men
How in the world would you expect love to be obtained with a plot so bloody insane
Every single story always ends the same
Staring off into the sunset in a ceremony where she takes his name
Why can’t these tales be more realistic
Maybe a collar or two covered in lipstick
Instead of a prince why not a prick with a huge dick
One you don’t wanna lose yet he don’t care and he’s never there
Why is it we allow ourselves to become so scared
Scared to be hurt, scared to be alone, scared ours too will become a broken home
People act as tho this hurts more than broken bones
As if its the equivalent to physical pain as you watch a part of you walk away
It blows my mind the excuses people find to make unacceptable behavior seem okay
Whatever it takes to make them stay
The way we think sickens me, it’s twisted and wrong
Clovers All Over: Me and The Mental Map 