(first [love) is blind]

“do you love yourself?”

shackled by her shattered swagger

she replied: “I love him.”

I watched them to see this beast perceive her vulnerability

and use it wisely.

he

stole her hand

freely.

naivety

led thee

to plummet speedily

and he

gave her all she thought she ever needed.

a youngin,

she craved his attention.

her body tingled as he shared his “affection.”

rose tinted glasses smashed in

shocking her into solemnity

by splattering her body solely with the blood of his love -

kissing her face with his fist

and her skin with his scratch whenever she screwed up.

a trainer, he trained her to obey.

to be his girl, she’d do everything his way

and play

like it was all good in the hood

if he could love her the way she imagined her first love would.

alive in the eyes

he raised his voice when sick of the hand

stating each of his demands as a

Man.

it was a roller-coaster of interaction:

words built up

to watch her fall

pushing her down

so she could give it up to him -

slaying her conscience within.

feeding off his syllables

every lie became a parable presenting his “love.”

she held on to this contact.

sharp syntax intact piercing into her existence

and in an instant she choked on an “I love you”.

a foreign taste,

the first time she had someone to say it to.

his heart hung ruthlessssss but with a kisssss spoke

“I love you too.”

lies laced with licentious intentions.

to her, he was all she’d ever need

but to him she was just another screw in a toolbox of opportunities.

he knew exactly what he was doing.

a rolling stone one night he rolled on.

Mother Nature saw it coming all along.

a master creating disaster

he carved her ego into the plaster he traveled on.

he left her bare, her future unaware

but she’s still too in love with him to care.

[this was written as a performance piece, hence it comes off weird on paper (or in this case, typed on a blog)]