You broke me this time and got me begging to stop it from happening but then it happened, you shattered my sanity into pieces. You, above all people, got me smitten so much that I forgot my worth and respect. What an achievement, I mean how could you? But maybe that's what losers do, let their energy consume someone until they're contented. Are you contented? I hope so.
I almost gave it all, I thank heavens that I didn't. From strips of academic info to shirtless nonsense and still, you didn't get the agendaーI liked the shit out of you. Maybe you got the idea but let it slide and let destiny decide. You've got the nerve to keep my hopes up while you're banging someone, how could you? But then maybe that's what a lame dude does, to add a little spice they need a little cinnamon to steam it up a bit. Are you soaked enough? I hope so.
Your arms feel like home somehow, a serene place to be resting your entire sanity when seeking comfort but now I rather be homeless than be living in a lodging house with a facade of comfort and serenity. How could you? Treat me like I'm yours for a whole damn night, giving me peace and euphoria, just to ignore me the next day. Your inconsistency is dragging my sanity like a weighing scale, it depends on how you feed my delusionsーyou did it so well that it made me question my worth. But I guess that's what a manipulator does, what will a manipulator do? Exactly question your being.
We shared moments that only we knew. I let it because I liked you, loved even. Body to body, skin to skin, and soul to soul, I let you. How could I? Because I loved you it actually hurts. I loved you to the extent of letting self-respect set aside to let feelings erode so drastically that it crumbled me to pieces. You knew this was gonna happen and the hard part is I knew it also but I let you cause no one would. No one will choose me other than when you are bored or want some satisfaction that your girls wouldn't give. You touched every part of my body but never my soul.
I felt like an old cardigan, overused and torn. A fast fashion, overrated, and sometimes ridiculous. A no-pair sock, useless and forgettable. A someone's sometimes. An August in a world full of Betty and James. Not chosen, never will be.
History repeats itself but this time I did not get the guy.
