the first and the last.

you are masquerading as the shadow of a gentleman.
full of pretty words and a very persuasive mouth.
charming, i’m sure.
but underneath and there within waits the true, tortured self.
a man masking past pain with the punctuating vulgarity.
winning bedposts and breaking spirits.
she knew about those late night visits.
she heard the voices on the other end of the line.
you weren’t what anybody would call subtle.
you have hurt her more than you could ever comprehend.
yet, she returns.
slightly more battered and berated but with that same delicate smile.
you use her as nothing more than a pawn in your twisted games but to her this means so much more.
she loved you.
she still loves you, for reasons unknown.
she can’t fix you.
neither can the luscious lips you lie so convincingly about.
“i never meant to hurt you baby”
“she never meant anything to me”
how little worth your worlds hold now.
your eyes could never lie, you know.
bright, brown orbs speaking volumes about your whereabouts.
but yet pulling inwards, even against a strong conscious screaming to stop.
you’re a liar and i love it.
that poor unfortunate girl,
she will always find her way back to you.