N-G: a devil in disguise.

You bury your face in a book so no one would notice. You wish that no one would come and ask you about what you are reading. They move around but all you can see is shapeless ghosts. They talk and laugh but all you can hear is white noise.

She comes and sits close to me, closer than she ever did, almost inappropriately close. Our postures are almost embracing, but we try not to make an eye-contact. A great distance separates our souls. For what she did and what she proceeds to do I can’t forgive her for. A personification of evil, that’s how I perceive her. Her cold handshakes should be stoned to death. Her offensive disregard should be flogged in a public square. Let not compassion move you in her case.

Why is she doing this? Why is she going through the ruins of a man that she turned me into? It’s too late to fix me, if that’s what you’re after. Is it that you consider me an interesting piece of meat you’ll enjoy to devour, or a booty call to satisfy a momentarily desire? Is that all you want: a boy toy?

You could have been a goddess, a statue sculptured to represent perfection. But you seem satisfied with being a she-devil.

this song says it all: