Another page in her diary...
Just like Sullivan, I feel so stupid, foolish...every time I decided to take you back. No matter how many times you decided to hurt me and take me for granted. The heart on my sleeve suffocated the intelligence of my mind. I knew what kind of person you became and I decided to be friendly to that enemy of mine heart. I replaced anger with hope, hope with stupidity, stupidity with tears. A million tears you caused to leave my eyes; the eyes that saw you act like a jerk right in front of them and hated me when you stood closer afterwards.
You whispered sweet nothings to a friend of mine; praising me in all aspects, when I thought little of your prospects. The game of Chinese whispers began, when my friend shared your sweet nothings with me; it became something I favoured, when I saw your chocolate, smooth as Wispa face. I warmed to you; I became attracted, not knowing I should have detracted my curiosity before they became heart felt feelings. I think I moved into the heartbreak hotel Houston had created in a song, without realising it.
Wish I didn’t hear those whispers; even if they were sweet. They were also deceiving. Like Drake, when I’m speaking, you only in topic when I’m pissed. Shouldn’t have let you in. Should’ve known it was dangerous to let trespassers like you in, when my heart was vulnerable on my sleeve. Exposed to foolishness. You were the Paparazzi and you didn’t know the sight of my heart was sensitive. Unlike Gaga, I weren’t ready for those flashing lights; I am not your biggest fan right now and I definitely won’t follow you until you love me. Love me? Ha. You didn’t even respect me.
You made me look like the predator to your previous when I was the victim and yet I listened to your troubles to the wee hours of the morning. How many times...
You declared your next to me out of the blue when I finally thought I had a chance and yet I hugged you better when the flu decided to invade your body. How many times...
You pretended you never saw me, used your phone as a distraction, when walking with her and yet I smiled and laughed at your lame jokes. How many times...
She hit me with stones in the form of words, when you decided to play with her heart like you did mine and yet I apologised to you for my well deserved anger towards you. How many times...
You tried to play innocent; be the bigger person; pretend like nothing occurred but how many times will I allow you to tread on my emotions?
Never, no more.
(Check Out'Wasted'http://ceedaniels.blogspot.com/2010/10/wasted-diary-of-mad-black-lady.html)
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