The mistake.
This technology we now have, we make gut-ripping mistakes with it.
Or, at least you do.
With your fanciful lies of love and life, to me.
Again, the pain of the lies.
It never ceases, it takes new shape and gathers steam.
Like drinking a fine wine, only to discover, you've poisoned it.
Once, only once - I believed in your love, until you smashed me in the face with reason not to. Bruising my face, my ugly, docile face.
A burn, that singed my soul.
That mistake. Your mistake.
That message - you sent it - to me,  but... it was not for me.
Always I dream what my intuition is trying to sell, always you lie and hide it well.
You planted that seed long ago, your first technoligical mistake - I've been an utter fool.