We were sitting on the porch, smoking cigarettes and talking about how boys breaks our hearts of flowers and how we break our teeth every time we kiss their mouth of rocks.

And her longing for boys sounded like poetry.

Smoking Lust In The Rain by Royla Asghar

The only love I ever want is the darkest of them all. It has sharp teeth and it shreds me to pieces. It is a dangerous kind of love; the one that forgives too quickly and makes amour out of revenge. And when it leaves you, you would cry on the kitchen floor and call your best friend. A love so dramatic that the only artistic thing about you will be the way you cry yourself to sleep. You would not write anymore because your damn lover took every pen of yours and stabbed you in the lungs with them. You would eat your heart with salt and your bear hands.

I want to die for love. Oh my dear, kill me. Turn me into a tragedy.
Let them write about us.

Let them say I got psychotic for you.

Horror by Royla Asghar

I want to get rich on you – I want to own every white marble bone of yours. I do not want to love you at all; I want to make you sob all day. And I want to you buy me pearls and I want you make me ridiculously wealthy. And I want you to cry for me.

I loved you, I loved you but now I got fame and I got power. And somewhere between loving boys for attention and being a scandal all the time, I got bored with them all. I become frigid, I let the monsters in my heart, and they ate my soul raw.
And now I put my makeup on, and take my clothes off. Spray a little perfume on, and I make the bathtub ready.

I am bathing in your tears, with a glass of cherry cola in my hand and cigarette in the other one; I am sinfully laughing at those who thought they could break me.

I Want Fame And Your Tears by Royla Asghar