The Perfect Heartbreaker

She’s beautiful, yet her eyes tell stories of her countless lies. Her walk grabs the attention of her prey then she slowly begins to lay them down to the ground to use as her own walkway to deceit. The petite physique of her bodies’ unique, she’s like a beautiful garden with seeds of poison ivy, planted deep into the soil of her twisted motives. As she grows this deadly yet attractive plant, her plan is to painfully execute the hearts she seeks to take. She leaks poison in every kiss with venom pumping her bloodstream containing her heart to beat, you see she's literally to die for. All it takes is at least 1 second of eye contact, going within 2 feet of her touch, or 3 words heard through your mind and your infected with her exquisite love trap. She collects tear drops she’s caused from every heart she’s bruised, mixes them in her perfume spray and puts it on for every date, she literally smells like heartbreak. Self Trained to get what she wants yet she needs no man and no man can get to the center of her steel heart. The texture of her hair causes illusions to lure men in as she uses them and loses them heartless in confusion jus cruising through the tunnels of every mans emotions. She’s Every mans love potion, yet she leaves doses of commotion and never looks back. Her Looks are like the sun yet her heart is a raincloud of mourn she is the perfect storm. Educated, Intelligent and Employed she’s so independent in life... But you see behind those beautiful eyes, and inside the steel walls of her hearts home lies the lack of self establishment within she’s so alone. So afraid to let anyone in her gates, because every man seems to be the same so she created the perfect planned to repeatedly beat the games. Giving them no chance from the beginning, leaving them spinning and we all wonder why these girls are changing to this image. Yet we all do the same shit just in it to win it. They’re just tired of being "it"...... This is what we have done to the women.

The Re Make Fate

I used to think when we began to lean away and disagree, that fate would decide when we needed space and we'd just gracefully attach our wings and fly back into each other embrace. Those days of 2Nd thoughts, as we throw words at each other and watch them battle to belittle, yet little did we know those sharp words stuck us and stabbed into each other as the wound began to bleed and leak out faith and strength to waste. Yet we always said fate would decide our later days, mentally training our hearts to take the lazy way by telegraphing the future to our hearts as a whole, as one. You used to tell me no matter what, we will always be in each others lives, skies the limit of lies, cries, or amount of tries we apply to be together. It seemed as though every fight was just a fight and every kiss became a reason of forgiveness, sitting and wishing all this wouldn't be so twisted. We've been living in excuses just leaving our relationship in the hands of confusion in which we have no visibility, dodging all our responsibility's because of loves stereotype. Thinking loves songs that we hear on the stereos hype is the life of our marital type, because you told me we would get married. Although it seemed a bit scary at the time, the prime reason as to why i was afraid was because you meant it. As i left it dented in my mind until my heart was ready. But then all the parties led me into setting my priorities of commitment that began spreading confusion of confetti getting you and i into this love levy. A you how do we fix this? Those who start of lifted seem to always get gifted with Pandora's box. you see we opened each others hearts but didn't make the switch to commit, we thought love would automatically make the trade like eBay. But we played with the wrong situation, and as we open this love container we never contained and appreciated all the pros and cons that flew up in our faces. Because we thought fate would take it, yet we were never aware that fate's strength is rated on the effort of how we make it. OK, so this may seem stupid, but its kinda like cooking Roman Noodles in the microwave, instead of setting it over a fire wave and letting the water boil and cook the righter way for a finer taste. Yet we made our fate the lazy way. So lets try this.... Lets empty the container and close it. Take the old noodles and dispose it, Lets trade our open hearts and hold them, not to control them but to control the way we create our fates strength. Catch the traits we need to have faith and stay closer, so we can grow older with out the past of fire burning on our shoulders. So we can stop, drop, roll, and start over. Before fate decides its to late. This is the Remake.