"Ill do that" she said
She was so always eager to please
But then quick to anger
"No worries I'll fix it"
She always said
In return she got a warm smile
"I'll babysit for the coming years"she said
"I'll be a listening ear" she said
"What do you need help with " she said
"Have you eaten " she said
"You sick we need a doctor" she said
Then her cup got empty
She couldn't pour anymore
Yet she felt guilty that
she couldn't give,
That she blamed them for it
Her path became thorny
In return she tortured herself
Became her worst nightmare
And then she met him
He promised her love beyond this realm
That she was the purest soul he has met
What she was,still is ,is a torture device designed specifically for her
She should be validated
And he would make her understand that
He became he refill
A therapist she could divulge her secrets to
But she forgot he was human
She forgot her touch was sinister
She tainted him too
And he threw that to her face
And she couldn't blame him,or them for that
Because there is always more to the story
She might be her author
But what she paints,what she writes
Would never be the full story
Because even she alternates between being a victim in her story
But what stays more constant is she must be the villian in this story
Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 2:58 AM UTC
"Ill do that" she said
She was so always eager to please
But then quick to anger
"No worries I'll fix it"
She always said
In return she got a warm smile
"I'll babysit for the coming years"she said
"I'll be a listening ear" she said
"What do you need help with " she said
"Have you eaten " she said
"You sick we need a doctor" she said
Then her cup got empty
She couldn't pour anymore
Yet she felt guilty that
she couldn't give,
That she blamed them for it
Her path became thorny
In return she tortured herself
Became her worst nightmare
And then she met him
He promised her love beyond this realm
That she was the purest soul he has met
What she was,still is ,is a torture device designed specifically for her
She should be validated
And he would make her understand that
He became he refill
A therapist she could divulge her secrets to
But she forgot he was human
She forgot her touch was sinister
She tainted him too
And he threw that to her face
And she couldn't blame him,or them for that
Because there is always more to the story
She might be her author
But what she paints,what she writes
Would never be the full story
Because even she alternates between being a victim in her story
But what stays more constant is she must be the villian in this story