Roses And Thorns (UNDER HEAVY EDITING)

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-Party boy.

You were unpredictable, like a wild card. And I was a pawn to you, to use and dispose of when you were done. 

At first I thought you were my friend, I trusted you and believed you genuinely cared about me. I did not know at the time that some people could have a hidden agenda when they would be asking about me. 

Eventually, when I cut off toxic people that brought only chaos to my life, you slowly disappeared too. You had no problem replacing me in seconds, moving on to the next interesting person that would entertain your boring existence.

What hurt most was thinking back about our so-called friendship, and your promises about having my back whatever happened, that would turn out to be empty words.

I hated you for lying to me, and walking out of my life when I needed you most to stand by me. 

I went from having admiration and respect towards you, to feeling disgusted whenever someone mentioned your name. You were loved by so many people, that believed what I used to see in you, the persona you created to get close to everyone. I believed you always had your own hidden agenda, fooling everyone, and using your social skills to get every bit of information out of people just for the sake of spreading gossip.

Your reality was really disappointing, and that was why you filled the void with empty promises and entertaining stories. 

A few years went by before I saw your face again. 

Karma seemed noticeable, because you were not the charismatic teenager I knew you to be anymore. You looked like the mess that you were on the inside, the one you created all around you.

You weren't charismatic anymore, and your eyes looked empty. 

I knew I wasn't interested to interact with you. But I was a mystery to you again, a captivating one you knew nothing about anymore. 

As you tried approaching me, your attempt was shut down, and my boundaries were clear as water. I was ready to drown you if necessary. 

I wasn't going to be played again by the same two-faced person.

Your apologies had no meaning whatsoever, because your words would never match your actions. Your time was over the moment you decided to screw me over.

All that was left for you was to empty bottles and try to get the attention you craved somewhere else, watching me from afar with a drink in your hand, while it felt only poetic to ignore you, to give you a taste of your own medicine. 

The party was only getting started after all, and I only wanted to enjoy myself.