Sunday, January 17, 2010


All the good is gone now, all the wonder too. You lied yourself away, brick by burning brick. I always think there's hope, even when hope is insecure. The switchblades you hide in there are tearing up and stripping gears. Theory defines the best parts of you, reality is fully let down. Were you ever a man, or at least a boy with integrity? You are cold and callous, a liar at best, and at your worst, you love. I called you a coward once and I've believe it ever since; nothing you've done has proven me wrong, but I still hold the space for hope. You'd give up the trust, the love, the caring, and the real for a moment of false enjoyment. What kind of respect does that deserve? Not mine, not yours, not any. The traps you've created, you've created alone. You've got the keys to your cage, but you're too lazy to use them because it's easier just to blame me. I told you you'd break my heart once, and you said you'd not do it on purpose. The truth about that is simple: you lied.


  1. When do we read the even more tragic sequel? You know, the one when you lather, rinse, repeat...