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| I once told a friend, in a moment of uncomfortable bliss that there was nothing about me she should like. I wasn't pretty, I'm not the best student, and I mess everything up. She looked at me with those sea monster's eyes and said I had mystery... | ||||||||
| Mystery, it's another term for the scars we hide away behind a mask. Playing out the part of our selves we have left. At the time I was unconscious lost between the sent of her perfume and she shear flattery of her words. I'd smiled no doubt, dumb or numb simply forgetting to do anything but savor the thought that at the very least some one found me remotely interesting. | ||||||||
| But that's a lie, a lot of people find me interesting, what held me thralled was that "she" found me interesting. I was caught between illation and horror, as my conscious stirred just enough to tell me that my girlfriend would frown upon such thoughts flying through my head. At the time I'd no idea she'd lost interest and was securing another prey while holding on to me just in case. | ||||||||
| Puns aside the hunts over now and I am out dated. Which in the end is probably just showing her growing sense of taste... but having heard of the fellow she's run off with I'm upon the presuppose of saying her tastes degraded. All and all I was finally freed from the spell upon my way home from school and in over the course of that journey an abashed grin grew into a frown | ||||||||
| My mystery... that was the part that attracted her? The saddest bits of my life drawn upon me to create this brooding creature that doesn't quiet fit in? This was a saddened thought for me, the one thing that she liked, I hated with every fiber of my being. | ||||||||
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