You see, she was a muse.
A beauty that played the game,
I knew I was going to lose.
She was twisted,
abusive,
mad.
Oh,
I yearned for her to never be sad
but in doing so,
she took what I never knew I had.
In the late hours of the night
I can still see those eyes
that I wish I could despise.
For she was my demise.
Confused.
I'm so,
so,
confused.
I can't help but to feel used.
Like a paper towel who's one use
was to pick up stains
of another man's abuse.
Broken,
beaten,
tattered,
dead.
I thought we were to be wed.
Please,
I loved her from her toes
to her head.
Why?
Why did she invite another man into our bed?
Oh my,
did you see how her heart bled?
Those sheets will always be stained red.
It made me laugh.
She faced my wrath.
You can see it as a mangle,
but please,
look at it from my angle.
She had my heart in tangles,
it was mine that she strangled.
You say I killed her.
Oh,
but did you know that she
obliterated me first.
I was quenched with a thirst
only revenge could satisfy.
I don't need to testify.
I killed her,
but she killed me first.
Guilty,
I plead.
For I am proud of what I have done.
After all, it was my heart that she had won.
