kiss of death

We knew each other. Feelings took charge. Overwhelmed.

"Isn’t she lovely?" Darling, I sure am.
Lovely as lovely can be. You said that.

Consciously he tore me apart. I left.

He reached out for me. Certain, he said. Undaunted. Promises.

Not for long. Now unsure. Again. After all that?

Had he no conscience? Were my senses impaired?

There he goes again prancing about like an angel. Strange. How does he live with himself?

Self-declared bastard.

I’m sorry, it doesn't hurt to know, but that just doesn't cut. It doesn't make it better. It doesn't even change anything.
Apology? Too little too late. Perhaps in time.
Friends? Not in this life. It would be ideal, but you're just not worth it.

It had to happen the way it did. I can now see.

Disentangled. Free.