The Trap

I see you all tangled up in your emotions, careless acts being depicted when it comes to your devotion

Devoted to broken promises and shattered dreams, most days are spent worrying about the most obvious things

Like will he ever get right? Will he ever learn to love me, in this life? 

Asking those questions that have already been answered, as you continue to decimate in the company of your boyish cancer

A cancer that embodies the flesh, a pretend to be man, yes trickery at its best

His presentation is what captivates yet his aftermath is what you've come to hate

Hateful of the fact that you've come to love hurt, a distasteful truth of how misrepresentation really works 

See he flirts by deception for the purposes of trapping your inner affections, Bullseye now he's got you wide open, guards down, left open without protection

Now the games begin
Never did he seek your heart, it was only your mind that he wanted to deeply dive with-in

See the body goes no where without the head, which means the type of love he has is paralyzing, your tomorrow aspirations are now all dead 

You belong to pain
You've stopped living life and accepted a hurtful gain

Self-identity is a thing of the past, a reflection of self is now out of your grasp

So you become content with worry, asking those same questions daily

Yet somehow the answers stand mute in what should've been the season of a short story... 

Ladies love is something that's reciprocated; receive in return exactly what you're sending out or remove yourself