You called it love. I called it noise.

A story people tell their girls and boys

To make the grave look soft and deep

To sell a meaning while they can't afford to sleep

But I was never your believer, honey

I was just too tired to run

You took my silence like a promise

Now look at what you've done

But you couldn't. You just stood there, dumb and brave

Watching me drown and calling it «a wave»

And the more you touched, the more I froze

That's not romance, baby. That's a slow overdose.

You were everywhere. In my room, in my phone.

In the air I breathed when I tried to be alone.

Your texts like cockroaches under every door

I said «I need space» — you asked «what for?»

You knew I'm a creature. You knew what I am.

I warned you at the start: I bite, I slam,