Such a strange thing,
to normalize steamrolling
those you say you love.
To blindside, catch off guard,
not in moments of crisis,
but in pursuit of your own comfort.
You move with calculation,
disguising strategy as sincerity,
timing your truths
so they land like traps.
Love, for you, is a lever,
a means to a cleaner exit,
a softer landing,
a mirror that only reflects
what flatters.
You speak of loyalty,
but only when it’s owed to you.
You call it honesty,
but only when someone else
pays the price.
And the ones who trusted you,
who stayed soft
even when the air turned sharp,
they’re left with the ruins,
wondering if they ever mattered at all.
It’s not love
if it wounds like this.
Not love
if your gain requires
someone else’s quiet undoing.
I get annoyance and anger in this piece. With underlying hurt. Nice
Thank you Fia, this is something I’ve had penned for a while. It came from observation of a friend, some of this is her words at different times, I just put it on paper and this is the end result..
Brilliantly penned, Fred. This write has teeth and goes for the jugular my friend. I also agree with, Fia. There are tones of hurt simmering underneath though. Great write. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you Damian, greatly appreciated my friend…
I knew someone like this. He was almost my undoing.
Phenomenal ink, Fred.
Sorry to hear, glad all is good. Thank you for the read my friend……
You’re very welcome