A Letter to S
A Series of LettersDear S,
You're a snake. You offered me fruit and I bit it. Little did I know it was a poisoned apple.
You're a savage. You tore me apart for little more than your own pleasure.
You're a sorcerer. You put me under your spell, hypnotised me into believing the cruellest of lies, your most unbelievable excuses excused.
You're a Satist. You taught my young and innocent heart to hate. I believe in Hell because there is no Heaven for the likes of you. Man of God, man of the Church. You say you're a Christian, I say you're a devil.
You're a sloth. Sly and slowly building my trust so you can make me break myself from the inside out, and never realise until it is all too late.
You're a slave. You let your desires rule you, evil overtake.
Your song, I will listen to it no more. Like the Pied Piper of Hamlen, you decieve so many and lead them stumbling blindly on your trail, but not me. Not any more. And Still, I find myself afraid. All around me everyone is clueless. I too was dragged along with your silly games for so long. But now I know. I've survived your sadistic ways, but I am scarred, damaged, tainted by your touch. You're shallow, but I nearly drowned in you.
You're strong, and I was weak. Now I've broken free, but I will never face you.
You're sour, but I'll never mellow you.
You're sick, but I will never pity you.
You're sad, but I'll never comfort you.
You're slipping, but I'll never help you.
You're struck, but I'll never save you.
You're 'sorry', but I'll never forgive you.
I hate you.
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