Heartbreaking is what I’m known for
Every time I meet a new boy, I think I need more.
No one ever seems to have the perfect personality
Or any form of conduct and morality.
It’s not my fault I can’t be content
And sometimes express things that weren’t meant
Some may define me as a tease
I’d just say I’m harder to please
I might like a boy and change my mind
But that’s no reason for him to sulk and whine
I’d say my heartbreaking is a skill
Not a flaw, yet I regret it still
I don’t enjoy making boys cry
Although the pity they expect is humorous, not going to lie
Boys just don’t seem appealing
So I keep getting more, pulling them in and reeling
Reeling in those somewhat cute faces
All ending up unattractive in several cases.
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