THE NARCISSIST GAME

Showered in Love Bombs, a fleeting grace, - The vulnerable, a pawn in this cruel race.: Charm and Sincerity, a carefully crafted guise, Gain is the motive, hidden in disguise. "Good Morning, beautiful," a sweet, deceptive art, "Good Night, babe," a role he plays by heart. No shame in his game, a predator's delight, Trust and belief, consumed by the fading light. "No wife, no girlfriend," a bitter, lonely plea, "All them whitch’ s," a venomous decree. Late night talks, a mirror to your soul, Reeling you in, taking full control. Validation, admiration, fuel for his fire, Unforgettable, Irreplaceable, his burning desire. Highly successful, a Combat vet's acclaim, Disrespect? Unthinkable, a twisted game. Crying and wondering, a constant, aching pain, Why did it end? A soul-crushing refrain. "I text you," he'd say, with a venomous sting, "You forced me into everything." Silent Treatment, a weapon of control, No response, a story left untold. "It's all your fault," the final, cruel blow, "Just killing time," that's all you ever know.