I’ve come undone at the hands of traits.

The sex appeals of confidence lured my attention from the grace of your selfishness.

Your charm seduced me into a delusional space,

where I screamed caution to the wind,

and ran perilously into the arms of greedily feasting ego.

I kissed at the lips of your evident deceptive profound speech.

I studied it like a kiss-ass student with high grades

and lost identity issues.

Your daring nature left me drained,

emptied,

with self-pity and false content.

I knew not you,

but the sentences filled with words that described you.

I missed the flashing lights of your drunk anger that lashed out with Muhammad Ali fists.

Or the sweet bitter sting of a bite your disloyalty cursed me with.

I knew not you, but the sentences filled with words that described you.

You knew not the me nor the words to describe me.

All you knew or understood,

was the submissiveness I reeked of.

We knew not each other.

Just a boy with an ego,

and a lost girl.