Dying of the Sparks

Your easy smiles and gentle teasings strung my heart and blinded my eyes. I overlooked your veering lies and shady actions and glanced the other way when you enjoyed the company of other women more than mine, convincing myself that it was merely the green eyed monster rearing its ugly head. But when you strayed, I knew for sure that you took me for a mindless fool. You made a mockery of my love and blamed me for your straying.
You abused my innocent love and cut off the happy strings of my heart. You aren't worth my time or even a fleeting thought; you are a bad story and I choose to only read good ones.

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Jania Peterson

The abuse of love

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