victims

Written about a very short-term lover I had once...women didn't mean a whole lot to him he'd insist...but he worshipped them. I quickly realized that I could never love him. I was merely obsessed with how it looked...how we looked together. We were beautiful but only on the outside...we, literally, were the epitome of no substance. I imagine this to be how most high profile relationships are...it was an interesting experience - all glam, money, glitz, rebound-esque, and emotional cutting. I never fought him over the wretched fabric of "us" because he came along during a time where I had lost all my fight. If anything...I know now that I could never exist in such a superficial and disrespectful relationship.

"All of his victims are the same. Cinnamon skin, long hair, thick thighs, most everything golden brown with the exception of her perfectly peppered eyebrows, with lips that take well to crimson shades. Same song, different face. His game remains the same. All that changes is her name." -March 21, 2011