The Monotony of Sabotage

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I wondered how high she could fly.

And how many lies would get her there.

We disentangled forcefully.

A dreadful dance, cut in half.

It had happened before and it would happen again.

The replaced face, character, the superimposed attention.

 

When you started to mould I walked away.

I had never seen you clearly.

I had transformed you before you opened your mouth.

Maybe I never wanted to know you.

Disappointment, a constant companion.

We would wound each other without realising it.

 

I don’t know what I was looking for,

Every moment spent with you emptied me.

You were an illusion I created.

I buried all the red flags.

I rendered your intentions angelic.

And crawled into you to hide from the world.

 

Become a part of something, someone.

Unleash who I truly was.

I didn’t understand that I repeated all the patterns.

Until you imprisoned me.

And I recognised a familiar signature.

I came close to the devil once more.

Three_daughters_of_King_Lear_by_Gustav_Pope.JPG

“Las hijas del Rey Lear” by Gustav Pope (1831-1910)

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