Author’s Note: This is not about me. Nor is it about the people around me.
Originally written: October 30, 2009
They were never in love. She hungered for fame. He longed to be taken care of after being abandoned all his life.
They shot the sunshine into their veins and snorted all day long. You call that love?
She dangled his hopes over an abyss. Naïve, he just did as she pleased, without thinking twice. His spirit just tuned in, dropped out, switched on, switched off, and exploded.
He let his “love” for her annihilate what kept him strong before she came strutting along—his art, his friends, his sanity. The moment he said “I do”, he lost his soul.
As the romance faded, her true colors came out: a manipulative whore who wanted nothing more than attention. He withdrew and she threw herself to all she wanted. Ladies and gentlemen, the narcissist and the masochist! The celebrated couple will perform their celebrated ballad in ten minutes, guaranteed to be a splendid sight for you all.
She imprisoned him for years as she basked the glory that he deserved. The cunning witch deprived the world of true art when she reduced him to his self-deprecation.
And the world never got to see him rise up once more. Five shots to the back and he’s gone. No one was there to catch him as he fell and drowned in the crimson sea.
On the other hand, she’s still here, stinking up like a beetle dung and souring up the memory of a man who could have been a better man if it weren’t for her.
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