sappy

i love you.
i don't mean it in some obnoxiously commercialised way that looks like cupid plastered his own brains all over the walls,
and i don't want some cheesy romcom or some fairytale damsel-in-distress story (fuck, i sound edgy).
even so, all of those corny, mushy things people say about love are true when it comes to you.
my heart does skip a beat when i think of you,
and i swear that i melt a little internally,
but that's sappy.
i'd love to say "you're my drug" if i weren't already pumped chock-full with stimulants and SSRIs,
and i'd love to pour my guts out in some love letter with sad-at-best handwriting,
but that's sappy.
maybe i'd play a song or two about you,
or maybe i'd get you a bouquet of red roses ('handpicked' my ass, not in this economy),
but that's sappy.
so fuck it -
i'm gonna do those things anyway.
screw me, sue me, and call me sappy;
i love you.

07/04/23
- ch.rlie