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I can’t help it. I can’t stand not playing this.. this game. This god damn game. It’s just so addictive. It’s addicting. Don’t play this game. Don’t get caught because then you can never leave. You can’t. Run! Get out of here! Before it’s too late. It’s not something you would want to get into. It’s.. It’s something you should avoid no matter how much you love someone. This game that he plays with me, it hurts. It’s harmful, emotionally and mentally. It’s not his fault, though.. Whilst I’m stuck here, playing this addicting and mindless game, I still trust him. He’s not wanting to hurt me. My heart doesn’t want to let go. No matter how hard I try, I can’t help but play this game. It’s like he has this harness on me and he’s pulling on this chain while I’m down here, crawling, clawing, crying, and suffering. I’m digging my nails and fingers into the ground until I break my nails away to the point my fingers start bleeding because I’m losing so much skin on them. My knees and elbows starting to bleed as they’re being skinned and burned. My tank top being ripped, torn and burnt at the breast region and at the bottom of the crop. My jacket thrown off, caught on fire because it’s too hot to wear. My long auburn hair, messy and everywhere, in my face, in my way of trying to crawl. My beautiful skirt being burnt and ripped at the end. Whilst I attempt my getaway, my body being physically destroyed and my mental and emotional state of mind being ******** with, twisted, doors being opened and closed with each different paths -- He pulls on that chain of his to yank my heart back.

Black hair and blood red devilish horns, rather sexy on him.. Especially since he has that 8 pack.. shirtless. Here he stands over me, it gets hotter. His jeans fit him so well. His soft and smooth skin, so soft to the delightful touch. His lips, really soft, addicting, you don’t want to pull your lips away from his. His charming beautiful brown eyes are one of a kind. They’re a dark auburn hazelnut brown. So beautiful. When you look into his soul, through his eyes, you see pain, destruction, hurt. I can’t fight hard enough to get away because I’m the one that’s meant to help him. My heart and gut tell me I need to help him. It’s too strong for me to fight off. His devilish charm became ever so sweet and caring. I’ve turned to cherish him ever so dearly to this day.

My make up smears, my face soaked with tears. I can’t help but let him tower over me. Lust fills within my body and I only want nothing but him. I crave him. His presence. It’s soothing. Comforting. I can’t help but be in love with him. You can tell me to run. You can tell me to try and forget him but I can’t. He’s stuck. When you really look into his soul and connect with him, he’s really hurt. He’s in pain. He’s broken. I can only get up, wipe the tears and makeup away and mend him. Even when people throw garbage, insults, words, rumors, I can only look past them and I find this beautiful sweet soul. This man is absolutely everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
I look at his scars on his arms and chest, and I can only caress them with love and make the pain go away. No one’s ever made him feel the way he does. You can tell if you connect with him well. You can see our chemistry it’s meant to be.
I want the time to pass to much faster so then I could have him at least one last time. I love him. I really do. I figured it out. He’s worth fighting for. Waiting for. He’s meant to be mine and I’m meant to be his, cliché or not. I know it’s true and you can’t tell me any different.