I’ll tell you what happens.

You take the fucking bait.

You take and you swallow the damn thing. You watch in awe as you’re reeled out of water and as you lie there like an ugly fish struggling – those last few minutes between dying and death.

Except, unlike the fish’s, yours is fucking prolonged.

And I’ll tell you why.

Because some part of you told that he wouldn’t let you down.

And you believed him.

Because he picked you up when you were at your lowest,

Because he sang a fucking song or two,

Because he held you close as if he had his whole world wrapped in his arms,

Because he whispered sweet sins to your ears,

Because he sang lullabies to calm your soul,

Because he held you,

Held you so close,

That you thought you’ll were one,

You’ll were one.

And then it doesn’t stop there,

You thought your existence was bound to his,

That without him, there wouldn’t be a “you.”

You went beyond being fucking “one”.

Somewhere down the wine, moonlight walks and breathless moments,

You ceased to exist.

And then they come and hold you,

Their eyes telling, “told you so”,

Their voices saying, “it’s not you fault”

I’ll tell you this much,

It is your fucking fault,

It’s your goddamned fault alright,

And I’ll tell you why,

You don’t put yourself out there,

You don’t give such a fragile thing like your heart to Satan,

And most importantly,

You don’t fucking cease to exist just because a gentleman in a suit speaks three words,

Three words he doesn’t know the meaning of.

It’s your fault,

It is.

Now get up and deal with it.




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