Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Wake up call

      Don't you worry about us, don't you worry about me. I made a wrong call just because I was so used to your numbers. Don't you worry, honey. Just as I got used to your voice, I can get used to some others. Go focus your beutiful lies on someone else's mind. I'm no longer prone to fall for them. I do not deny that I was stupid enough to believe your every word. Amazing charm you spread all over when you are eager to get what you want, isn't it? And no, I'm not denying, I wasn't naive at all in the beginning. I don't blame you for the start, I blame you for how it ended. Such a sutil way to deceive, almost impossible to relize I was being played.
      Again, I'm not naive. You had your secrets, I had mine, but nothing compares. Nothing compares with how your truth was in front of me and I couldn't see. You truth being worse than mine. Your truth crushing every sign of hope. And the truth is not the problem, honey, oh no. Your lie from the first step towards me that got me angry. Piling up more and more lies you've gotten under my skin. Don't you worry, once again, about the drug that's inside. You are no irreplaceble vice. I'll put myself thorugh some therapies that only alcohol can create, but little by little it will consume you from my veins. Little by little I'll throw you away, just like you threw so many dark kisses at me.
      I tell you not to worry about us or me, because I think you should spend your time worrying about yourself. Being a good player for so long gives you some blind spots, darling. I may have being played for some time, but you, aw, you were played as well. I do not walk into a dangerous field without my own tactics. So, if I'm not mistaken, I'm under your skin as deep as you are under mine. You won't admit it, you can't admit it. Your truth holds you too tight to deviate your path. Something tells me you hid all of this for one reason, the reason you can't figure out just yet. Give it some time. Give it the time to miss my touch, my scent. Give it a time to realize how much it lost along the way, so it will be too late to regret, dear. Don't bother alluring me with your realizations, it will be too late for both of us. Even if I betray my manners and get slightly inclined to accept you with open arms, it will be too late. Keep my words, true words for once: time is short for us.

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