This one is to you, you who think that because you can walk around with your chest held high because your scence of self-rightousness is too high for anyone to rip down. Good for you. Your followers are only that, followers. Beware. They will not end to be your friend. It is just a fact.
They are too busy praising your beloved name and you will never have to struggle with their afflictions because that is below you. You understand dependance because that is what you discovered. You will not hear what I have to say and you will never know how to live life for the sake of someone other than your very own self.
And, because their life is nothing more than a pitiful joke of an existance in all reality they are miserable, they will surely defeat other people. Building themselves up higher and higher, on their pile of their deleted souls. I refuse to be in your grasp to wallow in that depth of hell reserved for those who are foolish enough to believe that there is good in the world. The ones who have compasion and have the faith to love. The fools. The imature ninnys who see good in the world. HAH! No such thing. You have showed me that.
And yet, you have this face of an angel and a way of speaking that only draws me in. There is no escaping the heart wrenching, coward, mutilating angel that is, you. I think of you in the highest respects. Though your heart is full of cold, and your mouth is full of lies, (hey, you showed me that song, thank you!) I am in love with you. I am in love with a monster. But you saved my life. You showed me what it was to be reckless. You listened. You understood me. You saw my heart. You held my heart. You were the one that made me want to dance. Yet according to you, dance was my down fall and my only love. You got that wrong. I love to dance, I love to write, I love my child who is no longer mine, I love coffee, I love reading, I love freaking Harry Potter! I love music. All kinds. I love pictures, I love little kids, I love being sweet, I love compliments, I love my hair! I love walking in the fall time, I love boots and scarves, I love rain, I love... love. You will not bring me down. I will be befall the hell that you wish me to succum to. I apologize for the harsh accusations. You can not blame me though. This is the you that you have showed me. You are strong, and beautiful and you deserve every good thing that the world has to offer. I am obviously not that person.. and I will, someday, be O.K with that. I am colorblind to the real world. I only see the things in which there is love and beauty. I see you. So there must be some good in that self-proclaimed cold heart of yours after all. You were and are my everything. And this, my love, is for you.
Love, Mate
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