Perfect? No Such Thing.
You used to fascinate me with your insight and perspectives,
and I would hang, enraptured, onto each word you spoke.
Your loving nature, adoring gaze, and continuous compliments almost had me fooled.
For who was I in your eyes, a plain and insignificant human as I am?
An opportunity, perhaps, a fall back from your latest ignorant victim?
So easily tricked, yes I was, but you knew it wouldn’t last long,
for how much time could you drag out a lie so easily seen?
I do not regret it, oh of course not,
as an irresistible task has been set before me;
did you possibly think, for an instant, even,
that I would be your last?
No, perhaps not, but in that case you’d be wrong.
I have no intentions, none at all, to let another woman suffer,
not by your deceiving games.
Maybe you were truthful with some things about me:
Beautiful? No.
Perfect? No such thing.
Smart? Smart enough to make the decision that you will never hurt me again.