I have always loved words and language. Today, I participated in a “word-game” on Facebook. You get a letter, and must answer questions with that letter. Mine was P. The annoying thing is that my brain won`t stop, It still works with Producing P-words, in Norwegian, German and English. Instead of letting those P`s scream for attention, I thought I`d give them a task.
Your playboy personality drew me in. Your pothole brain predated on mine. Palavering on my pain, pleased you. You planned your performance with no pity. I was your prey, and you the player. You paralyzed me. Your penchant for being a person everyone praised, was always present. Picking me apart, was what you did as a part-time job. Poking holes, prodding my weak points while plotting your plan. Protesting when I tried to pin down what was wrong. You never learned from the past, and proclaimed this with pride. Perfect people let the past go. Pulling away and letting go, was how you preached. You provided nothing, just your own perfection. Pleasing you was all I should do, participating in your priceless pandemoniums. I was your private party-planner. The picture you could mold and proudly present. I played along, until I almost passed out. But I promise you: I will never perform on your playing field anymore or provide my love. Predator, become my past.