History

History is written by the winners

Ladies and Gentleman welcome to the arena

Time spent longing for affection rewarded in full,Still unaware of what it will cost you.

Broken, words, hearts, promises.

Your habitat is too small,

Why should I always be the one to blame, but not the most beautiful of all?

The rotation of time mirrored all the miles driving to chase a feeling that wasn’t even real in the first place.

Witch, snake, burn her in the fire, you hold the match I’ll build the pyre.

Have mercy have mercy, change she must, it wasn’t going to be easy but if only for us.

Not seen, not touched, a ghost of sorts. Did I say ghost? I meant prisoner of war.

Self-gratification, the needs of the few

No participation, out of time,don’t worry I’m coming back for this too.

How will the story go, how will it unfold? Go ahead put on those hate clothes.

Everything was possible, things weren’t that bad, Couldn’t see unless there was another man.

Changed and tried

Yet still high and dry unable, to spare the time. Everything I could was asleep till noon.

The only thing that changed was the nightly meal. I’m better reborn, Shiny and new.

Please stay, don’t leave I always love you.

I’m changed.

You're crazy.

Could you please calm down?

Whats wrong?

Who's that?

Where have you been?

Where's it at?

Unwilling to sacrifice, the pleasantries that come with the one thing he hates.

Too proud, already full there’s no more to know, no need to get better, already prime.

It may be yours but I know more.

This is your fault too, it couldn’t be me, the problem is you, whore, prude always contradicting.

It’s fine I love you,

shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?

The gas was on but the fire had long since burned out, did it repeat or just complain.

No, actually they’re not the same.

Not understanding the price, all it was going to take, no hype, no fire, no deep desire, no hope, no way.

Go sell gas somewhere else, all stocked up come back another day.

Fault, maybe.

Hate, possible.

You should have thought of that, before. It’s too late, it’s done, crashing down all around sprawled on the floor. There’s nothing left no more.

Till death do you part you’ve succeeded in that, she may still be here, but she isn’t coming back.