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PatriciaAScottPoems
You did not enter softly, you entered aware, Like smoke through the cracks of a soul stripped bare. You watched how I loved, how I carried my pain, Then built your empire inside of my rain. You mirrored my passions, my language, my fire, Pretending your soul was stitched from desire. But predators study before they attack, And every fake promise was bait on a trap. You positioned yourself where my grief used to sleep, Then fed on the sorrow I buried too deep. You called it connection, I now call it theft, A psychological war zone disguised as depth. You wore my reflections like masks on your face, Turning intimacy into strategic placement. You knew every weakness, each ache and regret, The kind of dark knowledge narcissists collect. But pain has a language, and silence can teach, Sometimes hell itself becomes wisdom’s speech. And now when I see that manipulative glow, I no longer mistake performance for soul. Because love never positions, controls, or invades, And truth does not hide inside mirrored charades. You thought I would drown inside your illusion’s sea, But storms create queens — and that queen became me. 👑🔥
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May 17
May 17, 2026 at 11:25 PM UTC
The Man Who Studied Wounds
You did not enter softly, you entered aware, Like smoke through the cracks of a soul stripped bare. You watched how I loved, how I carried my pain, Then built your empire inside of my rain. You mirrored my passions, my language, my fire, Pretending your soul was stitched from desire. But predators study before they attack, And every fake promise was bait on a trap. You positioned yourself where my grief used to sleep, Then fed on the sorrow I buried too deep. You called it connection, I now call it theft, A psychological war zone disguised as depth. You wore my reflections like masks on your face, Turning intimacy into strategic placement. You knew every weakness, each ache and regret, The kind of dark knowledge narcissists collect. But pain has a language, and silence can teach, Sometimes hell itself becomes wisdom’s speech. And now when I see that manipulative glow, I no longer mistake performance for soul. Because love never positions, controls, or invades, And truth does not hide inside mirrored charades. You thought I would drown inside your illusion’s sea, But storms create queens — and that queen became me. 👑🔥
PatriciaAScott
Written by
PatriciaAScott
F
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 11:25 PM UTC
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