All that was lost,
Was what one wanted to lose,
Because it meant nothing anyway,
Stirred no heart,
Its ceasing to exist causing no grief,
A chosen end by a loathsome deceiver.
For if it had meant anything,
It would have been fought for.
Now only an excuse for attention,
From what is not real.
And all it ever was.
Proof of an insincere existence,
A corrupt soul.
Holy fuck.
He’d believed her, believed it when she’d insinuated to him that she had escaped from a psychologically abusive man child. He’d felt bad for her, wanted to help heal her heart. And he knew that her ex infant was as despicable, greedy, heretical, sexist, and vulgar as they come. But, o the lies, the irrefutable proof that she made herself into the victim. She had NOT escaped from him. She had made NO effort to leave him at all. He had rid himself of her. This grotesque caricature of...
Innocent people do not run.
They have no reason.
They do not hide.
They have no cause.
You once asked me why you drew the emotionally damaged.
I was wrong in my answer.
They come to you because you want them to,
Because you hold onto your own damage, refusing to repair it.
You ran from one you call a psycho,
But you only ran to other ones,
And you seem to have no clue how many others you harbor.
You think them great people, it’s true,
Confusing the warning signs for something good, good for...
I crash back into the doldrums,
Unable to claw my out,
And become resigned once more to the dark.
I do not care about anything, not about her,
For I cannot care about one who care not for me,
Nor for her own sense of truth, honesty, dignity,
No care for love nor loyalty … only crap.
I care solely about the intellectual dishonesty of it all,
The baseness of the lying and the betrayal,
The utter lack of remorse for it, refusal of any guilt,
Inhuman.
It eats an ever-growing hole in me.
Trust is...
You know what songs are in my head,
For they are in your head too,
You pluck them from my heart, and I yours,
Maybe different words, different voices,
But the same songs.
And yet you remain outwardly like stone,
Put on a show, do what’s expected,
Keep an unnecessary loss, a hole that will not heal.
Don’t give them to anyone else,
For they do not deserve them.
They are not for them.
They do not sing them.
You know who you sing them for,
The only one who sings them for you,
And they move you...
You had nothing to heal from, not from him, because your trauma was feigned and you reveled in causing him as much pain as you could inflict, vengefully, dead set on teaching him an undeserved lesson when you were just as guilty. You think yourself a pit bull, but pit bulls do not lie. All you taught him was not to trust again, not to love again, and that you have no scruples.
But you won, whatever that means. And, while you pursue your shallow wants, as if nothing ever happened, the world no...
People are not naturally greedy through life. No primate species is. We’re only naturally greedy during infancy, as a survival mechanism. Those who remain greedy were emotionally-stunted before the age of 8, when well-adjusted children begin to share without instruction. They do not need to be taught. Our culture stunts people.
When you labeled him materialistic, and there were no words less true, you projected your own greed onto him, your need for diamonds. You invented rationales to...
Came face to virtual face today with the type of scum you find so fascinating,
The kind you feel worthy of your friendship.
The kind you let into your life, though you shut me out.
I know they are similar, just from what they proudly display, the hyperbolic virtue signaling.
That is what you defer to, bow to, obey?
You must have no self-esteem at all, not a whit.
They are diseased, morally-inferior greedy misogynists who excuse the sins of the wealthy and powerful.
Men who will cheat on you.
...
Imagine being so spoiled and self-righteous that you believed you could willingly accept attention from him, say nothing to him about not wanting it, encourage it, while whispering lies about him, and then later use your own actions to ruin him. Those are not the actions of a good person, not the actions of a believer. They are the actions of a narcissist. Imagine it. Imagine being so self-righteous that you believe your existence in public is so sacrosanct that only those you silently deem...
Every day you keep it,
Deny it and ignore it,
Every day you pretend you have no shame,
Pretend you are innocent,
Pray as if you have nothing to answer for,
Allow suffering to continue in your name,
Repress your desires and fake others, for bad people,
You soul turns a darker shade of gray,
As denial will eat you from the inside until you are empty.
It is the human condition.
You cannot keep it unaffected unless you are sociopathic.
Soon it will be black and you will have no goodness left in...
Do it.
It is not fair to refuse your guilt,
And equally not fair to leave it hanging forever.
Finish it.
Twist the knife.
You stuck it there,
Now finish what you started, chicken shit.
Silence is naught but cowardice.
Take it back or sever the spine,
Admit the truth or finish the murder you began.
Face things as an adult or stay a child and kill.
It’s the only other way to silence lies you won’t admit.
You started it, the fraudulence.
If you’re so superior, then finish what you started.
Pay...
You can’t fool your own desire.
It matters not how hard you try.
You do not want their hands upon your skin.
They are ugly, grotesque … no matter what they own.
Their touch is repugnant, and your body will recoil,
Needing to be obliterated in wine to stomach it.
Your dreams are not of them.
They do not make you pulse.
They are of me … and have been for years.
I have always known your mind, though you hate it.
I wounded your heart, unwillingly,
And only I can make it beat fast, healed.
You crave...
You cannot befriend devils and remain true to your faith, true to your god.
You cannot let healable regret drift from your mind, without action,
Or it is not regret but self-pity.
Choices must be made.
Stop waiting, let not the chance pass to where it can no longer be reached.
You cannot repent in silence nor speak woe only,
Waiting for the right opportunity to approach but not give in,
Confessions of the heart must be written in stone,
Risks must be taken,
Values must be upheld or they cannot...
He simply had neither the time left nor the will to rebuild his life, and wished with all he had that it would just go away. But it persisted, day in and day out. She, the one who had created the entire issue with her falsity yet denied it, had walked away, as if she’d done nothing, and would simply attach herself to whatever artificial man crawled out of the wall whom she thought could provide her with the material desires and desire for status that she harbored … and also denied. Whichever...
She thought she’d found the best of the best,
The creme de la creme, the power elite,
Status higher than she’d ever find again,
And her head swam with prospects of a life of diamonds,
Inviting them into her personal world,
Bent upon being their acquisition.
But she’d found the worst of the worst,
The most degenerate, the most diseased,
The root of every problem,
The source of the cancer of the world.
There was no morality there, no loyalty, no soul,
But she let them stain hers, defile it,
Let...
Hypocrisy ruled the day, and it ruled the years. And so much had been aimed at him that he believed it was all people knew anymore. So much had happened, had passed without address, without discussion, without resolutions. It was beyond disheartening.
She had believed the caricatures of him proffered by those with personal agendas, agendas to smear him to her. And they did so because she instigated them to, while she pretended to be his friend. The hypocrisy was stark, as she claimed that she...
Do his actions match his words?
Does he kiss those places you dread to let be seen,
Those you hide,
The folds under you jawline where the skin is no longer supple,
What you hide under your locks?
The places where the creases of age have left their mark?
Does he spend the time?
Does he spend his passion there, letting you know his love is true,
Not just words to get his way?
Does he worship the backs of your thighs, taking time to treasure every inch?
Or does he expect you to serve his needs,...
Those who use are always the most sympathetic,
Ready to support regardless of truth,
Regardless of their knowledge of anything,
Saying every kind word they know will bring them favor,
Lending an ear though they do not listen.
Never a criticism will they utter,
Not until they get their way.
Their silver tongues are those of serpents,
Luring in their prey.
The day the realization had come to him that it had all just been an act, gestures of false pity not made in truth for his sake but for the sake of her own ego, to make her feel like a good person, somehow a good person by being fake, his trust in people had died. And any hope that it would ever return was laid to rest when she’d chosen to punish him for the grief she had caused him by revising history to suit her need to placate others, again for her own benefit. It died when she chose to...
If instead of choosing a man who was loyal,
Whose love was true,
A man with wide interests, unpredictable, and deep,
You choose the ugly, the player, one who has nothing but money to offer,
And trolls the world for anyone who will take him, playing the field,
One who is completely boring, no imagination, no real morality …
Instead of forgiving for a transgression you helped cause,
You court what will no doubt end up worse in the end,
Instead of what was guaranteed pure, you choose what is...