Sparkatale

Trust is the gun you shot me with;
Love is the knife you stabbed in my chest.
Lies were your alibis
Pretending is your game.

You are a good actor
Putting on the masks of many characters
Until you find one
That I seem to like,
The one you use
To kill me from within

You are a good liar
Every tale you weave fits into the other
Perfectly
But all drip with falsehood
You trick me to believe.

Love is nothing in your eyes
You know not what it truly is.
It's a game to you
In every way,
In which you make up your own
Rules by which I'm
Expected to play.
It's all about you.

All about you.

I wonder why I dangle
On a tightrope above flames for you
When I have never once
Seen you dare to
Put yourself up to defend me.
I love you too much
Or you love me not enough.
Or this is another silly rule of yours...

Rip my heart
Out from my chest.
Step on it and laugh as it gushes
Blood from all pores.
This is what you wanted all along.
Congratulations.

You murdered me.