You ooze sex, says the beginner, You’re always on my mind and I want you all of the time.
You’re my best friend, says the womanizer, and if I was near you, you know I’d be in your guts.
Be careful, says the master manipulator, don’t do anything rash, if its not with me.
I love you sings the victim. I love you, I love you, I love you. All of you. Now. Trust me.
But you trust the beginner, because he doesn’t know any better.
You trust the womanizer because his agenda is apparent.
You trust the manipulator because if you didn’t he’d be a garden variety liar. He’s better than that.
But the victim makes your chest burn and your eyes bleed.
The victim makes you question the validity of a god.
The victim chooses to see what he wants to see which is the best in you. Always.
And you just so happen to be an activist who advocates for the victims in your heart. It’s your calling.
What else could you do, scared one, but ignore the flattery of villainy and ignorance?

What else could you do, scared one, but try and love an innocent victim to death?


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