By Ririsoony

How beautiful are today’s love songs? 

I, too, want to experience the joys of finding a companion to hold tightly to my heart… and my skin. Will I feel a sense of belonging, of parasocial love for a singer whose lyrics are, “I love your hair, and your brownish-bluish-greenish eyes, and the fact that your torso has arms on each side…” or will I feel seen in lyrics that sing, “I’ve never known someone like you… because you’re just a fan, and I’m cool and rich and predictable, and my boss wants me to be as generic as possible to appeal to all genres of my fans…” 

You and I, let’s run away under the expansion of the sky. Let’s live together and face the world as one entity. Let’s dine and dance under corporate-owned musicians cashing in on puberty and low self-esteem. 

I’ll write you poems and love songs. I’ll let my management team read through our texts. I’ll let them into our relationship. I’ll let the world see us, see you, see me, and wish that they were you. My fans will desire to knit their bones into yours as if they could morph into you. As if they could be dating me. I will inspire our next hit single, and I will profit off our love. Isn’t that so beautiful? Isn’t that the life we deserve?

I’ll hold you tight. You can be a part of my life if you dare to be a part of theirs. Show me your anger, and I’ll show you a voicemail in a mixtape. Show me your insecurities, and I’ll show you someone with dollar signs in their eyes. Show me your thorns, and I’ll show you someone ready to bleed. 

Will you love me then? 

Will I love you more? That is the problem. 

You’ll say my name, and you’ll find me with the craving to knit our bones together. To chew away the boundaries of our heartbeats. You can have my heart if you dare to stomach it. They will say your name, and I’ll watch how they bring you to life. I will tell you of your deepest passions and desires. 

I am not meant for mediocre love. I am meant for soul-crushing devotion. I want to drown in someone who, when I say their name, will writhe in gluttony. I want you to love me like a cannibal loves their meal. I want you to desire me, to eat away with my skin in your teeth, rather than green paper in your gums. I want to die in your arms instead of die in your songs. 

Will you go through this for me? 

Will you find out how beautiful are today’s love songs?