propitous incantations

He came to her in lust the first time
Lust as sheer as her panties
By the second time he had perfected the trade
He had matured a hundred fucks
Mastered every presdigitation in meaningless tales of "love"
She had retracted years of careful planning
And cautious living for moments like those
She broke her rules etched into the stone of her mind
He came to her first as a fling
Then as a lover, an ideal, a kobold even. perhaps.
perhaps if she wished hard enough
he would still be coming to her.
Lost in a loose detritus of thought
Sometimes the memories are too evil
Too unbearable, too possesive of her
They wont let her free
They wont let her live
They wont let her grasp another hand!
They wont let her taste anothers lips!
They wont let her..
they wont let her forget.
He came to her presenting his love first
Their love
No, their LUST
Their DESIRE
Anything but love
Their attraction,
Their sin,
was their own laconic lingo
Her careless ways and jocund demeanor
Ended with them entwined in a massacre of past affliction
Past affection
He came to her first when she dejected him
And again and again after she grew tired of him
As fast and sudden as those 3 misleading words came
They seemed to deliquesce into another charred fairytale
She remained adamant not to be taken THE fool
Not to be taken THE child
Not to be taken!
She remained adamant that he was true
That he was honest and kind
That he was hers!
He came to her smelling and acting masculine at first
It tooks hours, days, weeks, months
For the sumptious scent to leave her mind
The fetid stench that so so so mingled with everyone that passed her
It took hours, days, weeks, months
For her to cleanse herself of his undeserved attention
The stain of his very glances marred her and made her glow so slightly
She hated it, she detested him
But she never hated him.
He came to with a planned speech at first
The onus of his actions fell upon her
They controlled her every thought
Her every word
Her every tear and outburst!
She cant help herself now
Writing this and crying and counting the many times she believed him
Now she is the abjured one.
She knows she will take it out on her new thing
She doesnt know what to call it
She doesnt want to be a his or a her anymore
She doesnt want a fling anymore
She doesnt want a friend anymore
Hes a thing, they are a thing
He takes her mind off him when shes in his arms
He takes the hurt away with his words
The story sounds so hauntingly familiar
But his eyes...
His hands.
His smell
They plague her
They plague her so!
She'd never ever ever let him see her hurt
She'd never ever ever let him know he had her hooked
Doped up by the falacy of his security
High on the dillusion of his fantasy
Shes disgusted with her own obsession
Shes disgusted with her own weakness and flaw
SHES FUCKING DISGUSTED!
He came to her in lust the first time
Lust as sheer as her panties
By the second time he had perfected the trade
He had matured a hundred fucks

The sussurus of whats around her
Sweet innocent child, blinds herself to the thorns
They beg themselves to be recognized
But they are hardly worth the realization
Weave her a beautiful tapestry of tales
Lie to her, deceive her, make her happy.
Sweep her off to an oneiric land
Tell her winsome tales
Transform her melancholy face
To that of a virago
She'll condescend you with her own glances
She'll beseech you with her soft murmurs
Perfection, such a malediction.
Such a sin.
Such a lie.
Baffles them with her loquacious banter
Immolate the traces of her left behind
Extinguish any clues of her past identity
Abbleviate her piety, her grace, her turpitudes.
The sussurus of whats around her
The circumambient social dysfunction
She searches for that familiar face
But returns with the mutilation of self realization
Shes seen it all now
Shes seen perfection
Shes seen true horrendousness
Shes seen herself.