I can’t tell. Everything seems detached, unfamiliar and cold. Hands and feet, numbed by the fear and words. Reflection tells the same of how pale I have gotten, and that I am nothing more but someone faceless. And if ever the thin glass could show the reflection of what it is inside of me, I am sure to be found myself heartless. To my eyes, I am nothing more but a fragment of your once delightful memory, a body of failure and destruction, a heart filled with emptiness. The soul slowly fades, every waking hour. Shattered, I never knew hope. I never knew a thing. But I keep holding on to the words I said and I never knew the end to those three words, cause right beneath the surface, I am far from what I have been.
“You are the most dangerous kind of female the world can ever know. You carry the seeds for your own destruction and the destruction of everyone who loves you. And a great many will love you for your beautiful face for your seductive body; but you will fail them all because you will believe they all fail you first. You are an idealist of the worst kind - the romantic idealist. Born to destroy and self destruct.”