It never looks like destruction in the beginning.

It doesn’t knock on your door like a warning.

It looks like her.

Rain hitting pavement.

Neon bleeding into the night.

A figure just out of reach—soft, seductive… familiar.

She turns back just enough to catch your eyes.

Smiles like she’s known you forever.

“You are my destiny…”

And just like that—

you run.

You don’t question it.

You don’t slow down.

Because something about her feels… right.

Needed.

Like she’s the missing piece you didn’t know how to name.

Your chest tightens.

Your hands reach.

Behind you—something rattles.

Bottles.

Screens.

Habits.

Warnings dressed as background noise.

But you don’t look back.

Because she’s ahead.

And she feels like everything.

You get close enough to touch her.

Close enough to believe it.

Her voice drops into something softer now—

almost sacred.

“You share my reverie…”

Your fingers wrap around her wrist—

—and pass straight through.

Nothing.

No resistance.

No warmth.

No reality.

Just smoke.

But by then, it’s too late.

Because you felt it.

And once you feel it…

you chase it.

You fall to your knees.

Concrete slick beneath you.

Rain washing nothing away.

She rises now—

beautiful… untouchable… dissolving.

Fragments fall from her like ash.

Pills.

Pixels.

Promises.

Each one whispering something different:

Relief.

Escape.

Just one more.

You need me.

Chains wrap quietly.

Not loud.

Not violent.

Just… certain.

This is where destiny becomes dependency.

The sky cracks open—

but not for salvation.

For truth.

And truth doesn’t shout.

It just stands there…

waiting for you to finally look at it.

Because she was never real.

Not the way you needed her to be.

She didn’t come to save you.

She came to stay.

To sit beside you in the dark

and convince you the dark was home.

And the worst part?

She didn’t force you.

She didn’t have to.

She just whispered:

“I’m what you’ve been missing.”

And you believed her.

Now it’s quiet.

No neon.

No voice.

No illusion left to chase.

Just you.

Curled up in the aftermath

of something that felt like love

but fed like a parasite.

You tell yourself:

“I’d be a fool to leave you…”

And maybe that’s true.

But not for the reason you think.

Because the real trap was never her.

It was the moment

you chose not to see her clearly.

You were close enough to know.

Close enough to feel the emptiness

behind the beauty.

Close enough to notice

that every time you reached for her…

you lost a piece of yourself instead.

But you didn’t stop.

You didn’t question.

You didn’t open your eyes.

Because some lies feel better

when you don’t look at them directly.

She never loved you.

She just needed you to stay.

And you did.

‘Til Death Do Us Part.

You didn’t……..

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Saint Dirty Face™

Stay dirty, kiss like a sinner, but talk like a saint.™

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––