Princess In The Tower

Love is fake.

I know technically ‘love’ is oxytocin and

Serotonin and dopamine and adrenaline and endorphins,

There’s nothing real about it.

But that doesn’t make me want it any less.

I want my happy ending, my knight in shining armour

(A girl with a sword, coming to save me? yes please)

To sweep me off my feet and make me happier than I could ever make myself.

(Should I let someone else love me if I can’t do that for myself?)

Love has been capitalised, you can pay someone

To love you.

Dating apps, hook up culture, ghosting.

Love isn’t real these days.

But I still want it.

So much so

That I fall too quickly

Out of the window of my tower.

And crumple on the concrete,

Broken.