The only person who believes me when I say I'm evil is my best friend, she knows it, she and I are of the same mind, she's seen it, and I trained her in my ways. The rest laugh at me when I tell then, wide eyed, that I'm trouble. They'll call me cute, dismiss my warning. But I'm a heartbreaker, not that I intend to be. I'm too easy to love, too willing to love back. I will hurt them without planning to, and shed not a tear. No matter how my heart writhes in my chest. Maybe it's just my own unique damage, for often it seems my fault is loving too much, caring too much. I'd rather break someone's heart outright then stab them in the back a little more each day down the line, at least this way I can stay up all night and fix it a little. I have too many men swooning over me, and countless more who simply want me, it's a dangerous thing.
It's not a good thing, they can't tell I'm a bad woman, and I only go for good men.
M.
3 comments:
But Mausie, if you don't intend to be a heart-breaker, can you really be considered evil? Surely the fact that the consequences of your actions are unintentional earns you some grace.
Perhaps Dich dear but if I know full well I will be and do nothing to stop myself, do my intentions have any significance? Darling, you prove to me how well crafted my darkness is.
Perhaps I have fallen victim to your charms. Yet there is a tone of remorse to your words, no? You still have the choice to be good, right?
And even if you are evil, I can appreciate the juxtaposition of our circumstances and (supposed) moralities.
Post a Comment