King In My Story
You wanted to be the savior in my story, the healer, the King.
The way I looked into you, full of mystery, but eager to fulfill the void I saw through you.
It was the dance with the unknown, intrigued
Intriguing you.. seeing thru but not understanding … not reading in between, but ignoring everything I was seeing.
Seeing the red but still laying in bed beside you
Hiding behind what I felt was love but an unhealthy connection
With unclear conversations
Unknowns, mysteries, and still misreading the voids.
Not the king.
Not the savior.
Not the healer.
To be discarded and unrewarded left with big disappointments
How can you hurt the lover - it wasn’t me.
I was just the filler. The filler to your mystery.
The filler to your void. The void of you using me to find you, the void to recreate you at the expense of me.. you, The king in my story.
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