So much wasted passion,
for such a selfish man.
The hole in my heart deepens,
the way only a lovers can.
I listened and participated,
in endless, empty lies.
I gave myself fully to you,
ending in my own demise.

Love loses all meaning.
Perception, a rueful tool.
This bleak, opaque existence,
makes me feel as though a fool.
I curse the ground of which you parade on;
feel myself drop as this weight takes it’s toll.
Strive to lash out; grasp for a helping hand,
though receive a ruthless pull into a empty hole.

Bad news should never seem too surprising. People have always been a special kind of evil. One that easily uses others for mere satisfaction. Too preoccupied with fulfilling their own needs to truly see another as they are. Or bother caring with such a silly notion as consequences. Myself included. Acting with your heart is a fools move; a rookie mistake. It is better to keep everyone at bay for who can hurt what they know nothing about? Keeping others guessing being the most fun we can have. Holding your ornaments by their strings, dangling whichever way you see fit. We are all preordain puppet masters.