backstabbing

Sometimes, you just don’t see the pure evil in someone so close to you because you want to believe with all of your heart that they are just going through some rough years. When in reality, they are damaged and only care about themselves.

~ a sad true story

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puppet master

She watch herself
fall prey to her own trap
Slipping,
going further down the spiral
of tall-tales she so carefully
took time to spread.
Aiming to be victorious
to forge friendship
under a cloak of concern
for the well being of the other.
Down she goes
Into the spiral of lies she orchestrated.
Unmasked, looking in every direction
A pedestrian crippled by
revelations that she thought
she can get out.
Struggling to find redemption
Seeking the solace of the lies
She buried on top of the junk she offered
Finding herself drowning in pitiful shame
Rage consumes her
Trapped in her own deceit
Spinning another tale
That she thinks will save her
Like the fly caught in a spider’s web
Only the web’s her
Frustration.
Treacherous frustration.
She clamors for attention
Taking every bit of morsel
of pity she can have
out of the false face
she so consciously portray
Only this time,
she carelessly
miscalculated the people
who she each made a puppet of
Now that she’s been outsmarted
she still clings on to the very pedestal
she thinks she own.
Her own demons
continuing to haunt her
Not letting go,
Feeling abandoned,
Thirsty for companionship
Only there’s nothing left
she cling on to the
only the grapevine
she so painfully
attended to
and that even in itself
is no more.

empty promises

I don’t want to turn out a cynic just because of what he did. I was never that kind of girl. I enjoy having faith in people, I get so much warmth just doing that. I am a believer. I choose to be – even if it’s not for my own good.

I need him to understand that I don’t want to lose anything of what is left in what we have. I need to believe that he is willing to be the person he wishes to be. It’s such a simple logic: how will I live on empty words, the lack of action on the conviction he declares? I need so much more than this. I need him to help me save myself from myself – from the little girl who still believes in fairy tales and happy endings – to save me from drowning into a deeper voidness.

I refuse to disbelieve in him. Yet he’s slowly forcing me to. The countless look-overs, pushovers, turn-the-other-way circumstances create this dangerous pessimism. It’s lonely being left when he chooses to take more, not willing to give even just a speck of time. Tossing me, playing me just like a worn-out doll.

I don’t want to complicate things, this relationship we have. I have only these simple rules:  stick to what you say, promise nothing, surprise me. Because right now, looking back, he has me trapped into this one long hallow vacuum – consuming all of me,then leaving me empty.

I really wish I can hold on strongly, more tightly. More than enough for both of us.  Yet I think this is just how far my limits go.

In the long run, I need to find me again.

Without him.

Hopefully.