With apparent innocence, all you have to do is scratch the surface.
A bystander who cares for emotional wealth instead of the material - but offer them a penny and they’ll be craving a dollar bill.
A committed husband, doting on his wife, while he tries to avert his eyes. Who are you kidding?
Just take a moment to realise temptation is too good to resist.
Oh sweet beauty divine, don’t try to hide your lies.
The church goer who wouldn’t adulterate.
But sir, it’s too late, when you’re standing in your office looking at that school girl with her skirt pulled up high.
Blonde, blue eyes - superficiality rules and its rules are this.
The Priest reads from the Holy book,
The angels sing their praise
Will you hang your head and admit what you’ve done?
The school girl who said to me she would never become like them, 1000 friends on facebook, slutty bitchy cunt. She doesn’t have that capacity in her, but that’s what she has become. A shadow of her former self and she isn’t the same person.
An airplane trail across the sky, a sunset, a graveyard; a scent trail of blood that a parasite follows.
Can anyone flush out the infestation of people who exploit habitually?
Clothes on the floor.
A cold, dark feeling inside like sticky oil running over white tiles it makes you shiver inside. Do you regret or feel that you have conquered?
Why does she choose the ones she can’t have? As though a setting inside her is programmed to love and lust the ones she cannot obtain.
A teacher, a married man, well - more like multiple, a doctor, a psychiatrist?!
Even she does NOT understand herself.
The bystander now cares for physical satisfaction, wealth, piles of imagined gold and publicity. A 250 standard rate, the bottle cap, a bet on a horse,
Tumbling, tumbling further into the black hole of regret, pitying, pathetic. Mourning the man he once was.
The bystander is in a heap clutching his one penny, the only thing he has left.
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