Vincent, My Poisoned Cure


You've gone, left me.  I lie in this pitiful home of lonesome, louring me into the darkest of depressions. How could you do such thing? I've always given the best for you, always made sure you were happy. Your smile and talents all combined to draw a delicate angel, but has that angel ceased to care for his love? For he's flown away to another, one so wicked and vile, with the careless soul of your heart. Is this what you want? Your heart thrown out as if it were garbage? I've always been there for you, always comforted you. Even though we may be miles away, i'm haunted by the thoughts of you. You even begin to resemble the other I once love, the poison that injected me that you lived to cure. This poison has indeed returned, deadly enough to strike me with one touch. He's been creeping, lurking behind the walls until this ungrateful month where you have cast yourself elsewhere. The poison has rained manipulation upon me, with the sweet voices of a Beautiful Illusion. You have betrayed me, just as the poison did once before. Am I the puppet you're meant to cut the strings off until my whole body is numb and on the ground? Weak? Well I believe, young knight, that you've won. I plead for your embrace, scream to the spirits that roam my head for things to change. Yet nothing has, i'm still a young peasant that has been naive enough to still have toe hopes of your return. It's unfortunate you can't open your eyes for just once, you were meant to be my cure from the sickness that dashed a hole into my heart with a razor blade. I always imagined us to live grand, sharing our talents and forever together. We'd sketch our ways of love, but this has all been a lie. Just as the poison did, you have disguised yourself as the most graceful and affectionate creature I've ever laid eyes on. It's pitiful that  who I thought was the bravest, kindest, most handsome, smartest man I ever spoken to could become the one I see in my nightmares, the gloomy ones that whisper in my ears that i'm worthless and pathetic and should just die. This is what it's like to be alone and feel the rushing of betrayal. I've never given up on you, yet you managed to have me in my peaks of sorrows, is this what you always wanted? Mind me if I seem selfish, but I care for myself more than you ever will. You've pained me to the point where there's no escape now, the dream is all over. I was a fool for rushing into your hands, trusting you with my feeble, whimpering heart, the organ in my whole body that's shredded it's tears to create a world of darkness, an empty canvas of an infection that weakens my fate until I've lost my last breath. I only have so much time to keep trying, but is it really worth it? Is it worth the anxiety to have a repeated lack in concentration and drown myself into depression? Insanity is a villain that has gathered itself into me and shaded my soul into a worthless corpse and digging my grave right under your heart, as you laugh cunningly and chase right after the one's that's given up on you. Love has decayed in a pile of ash from the fire of Satan's eyes as he watches over my whimpers, smiling and splashing me with what soon became pure madness.


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