I regret letting you play with my heart
for you were only a child.
With vials of venom racked in deep,
your fangs glisten at the reproach of anything threatening.
I was witness to all the prey you made fall in defeat,
doused in cajole of mockery and lamenting in your spite.
You took pride in your nature of revenge and
I clapped along like a mechanical monkey and
laughed at the joke you made of them.
I loved you.

I regret playing with you, let alone letting you play at all.
You run amok on people’s vulnerabilities like they’re tiny green foot soldiers on the ground, but I see the rawness of their wounds, you tore open what was closed.
You toyed around with their **** lives.
I was disillusioned by love,
this heart of mine fooled me into believing your selfish lies.

As my heart lies a victim to your poison,
like a fish out of water prancing on the wood board gasping for breath, on the edge, between a death he once knew and the life slowly rebuild,
I retreat into the abyss away from the torment of you.
It’s still hard letting you go, knowing that I love you.
But letting you knowingly abuse me is like self harm.

I love you, but I love myself more.