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Irina BBota Apr 30
Are they snowballs down in hell
or just fire, smoke and heat?
I must live forever in my shell,
solving the matters of your deceit.

You put my feelings in the shredder,
wearing that silly mask of Cupid,
I'm guilty. I should have known better.
You're Evil in disguise, and I'm so... stupid.

You were feeding me with charming lies
about how your Sun is kissing the snow,
you made me walk away two thousand miles,
now I don't live at home anymore.

We should stop playing this blame-game,
and don't hide behind the shadows of a traitor,
the loneliness is whispering now my name,
believe me, you will thank me for this... later,

when your raven years will bring you wisdom,
you'll sit and have your morning breakfast,
you'll make confessions to God's kingdom,
only then you'll triumph over Life's tempest.
beth haze Apr 21
You convinced me it was us against the world
but once you finished building your kingdom
I wasn't worthy of you anymore.
Kicked to the curb and drowned in the bottom
of your swimming pool.
- high and almighty.
Max Jan 29
I'm not standing next to you,
Because I'm busy back-stabbing you.

Thought it was sweet, might delete later...
Cryptic Dec 2018
I have story,
There were three friends,
two of them were lovers.

I love you,
and you also love me.
Our friend was happy for us
but things had changed.
You left me,
and you two started to begin your story.
You love her as you love me
Arthur Vaso Oct 2018
brothels sprout
flesh peddlers collect their fees
selling daughters
in twos and threes
Lopez or Diaz
lazy or defiant
in polluted lagoons
the virus spreads

Dancing with the dead
priests absolve the devils
in their mist
Pilar sold her virginity
for a few bars of gold
wrapped in an old ladies hatred
she murdered her vows

Mexico is a land of smiles
the knife only glints
in the Aztec sun
as they bury you
after eating your heart
Pilar Lopez Diaz, thief, day of the dead Acambaro
Medusa Aug 2018
once we were one, so close
now turncoat in lakes of
oleander, creeks run poison
we two betrayed

what stolen ideal cast
in stone against her?
my anima still wants love
from me, yet twists on proverbial


coats were rejected
colors negated, unflown
prisoner of tumble town
chained like a queen

a shanty wish disregard
so no wings, air of nonesuch
grace barrio color to fly

in my mind, sleeping
mariachis playing loud,
my anima rescued me

real,  such desert here
just my shivering id
skinned seal, bad memory

still hopeful still here
surely mi anima mi alma
will grant my dying


I am the traitor of my anima
I am a traitor to my anima.
noun: traitor; plural noun: traitors

    a person who betrays a friend, country, principle, etc.
    "they see me as a traitor, a sellout to the enemy"
    synonyms: betrayer, backstabber, double-crosser, renegade, fifth columnist;
AnonEMouse Aug 2018
With the same pen and paper as the last love letter I wrote, I now write this.

Everyday he'll suffer in silence and I'll be content with the thought. The same hand that wrote loving words is the same hand that brought tears to his eyes.
Over betrayal and deceit hidden in plain view with a longing of decadence and validation.


He choose carefully, or so he thought - the wounded of the flock.
But he knew...somehow that I was different.
Unable to be read like a simple book, I am that of an enigma to most, alluring to others.
I could have loved that side of him -- the part unrestrained by persona. The damaged part, carefully tucked away.
But the beast must be fed by the tears of the innocent,
a pervasive pattern of loving women he made love him back.
He fed his soul with their sadness.
For he deceived them for proof of love and in it, he destroyed himself.
Day by day, he'll look at me and realize, like the last - he was wrong.
That someone had cared and someone was hurt, and that was not I.
And I am grateful -
for not loving a traitor.
To his own cause or mine.
Because every time he looks for validation in the tears of others.

I will not be there
and he will not find me.
Citlali Moon Jul 2018
From the moment we became a union
My mind, my heart, and my body
All thought of you.
You were constantly running through me.
Every hour, minute to every millisecond
was just You.

Only to find out,
You have given me the worst gift of all.
Now, I am suffering from the disease of heartbreak.

How treacherous and blind
A first love is.
Painful yet sweet.
Bitter but happy.
May I find peace between these dualities.
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