you told me
"she bares her soul to me
like she's getting undressed"
and it took all of my self control
to keep my gut response repressed
because i know you
but i also know girls like her
and even though i know you would not concur...
she
is going
to **** you

not in the sense that a murderer kills their victim
taking a life like they are entitled
but in the sense that your heart and soul will need the post mortem
because her selfishness is unbridled

she has already wounded you
so deeply i'm amazed you've recovered
but still you defend her and insist to me
that you know truths about her i haven't yet discovered
so i hold my tongue and reserve my judgement
hoping and praying this young thing isn't keeping her true self dormant
hidden away from your eyes in the hopes
that you will buy her embodiment
of the manic pixie dream girl trope

and you've bought it - her act
fallen hook, line, and sinker
and i can't say a word
for fear of your anger incurred
so i sit by silently, plaster a smile on my face
and worry quietly
that it's not going to be pretty, your love's fate