How many little black girls dreamed of prince charmings, when the hell on Earth mostly offered her demons and devils? Who warned her that his charm was the kryptonite to girls who had cruel mothers and abandoning fathers? That his lack of emotions wasn’t the mystery of a man hiding more to offer, but of a man who was empty; who needed her love desperately so he could feel alive again? And you foolishly gave him that love didn’t you? And didn’t care if he gave you the same, but only that he showed you some appreciation? Did you get it? No? And now the heart of a fool is broken.
Too many wounded souls so scared of love, they stop searching for it. Because everyone wears masks and you never know what lies beneath until it’s too late. Acts of kindness are distrusted. Evil ways are comical. The wretched rise to the top and the good people scavenge at the bottom for the scraps. The love of God is questioned, while the masses romanticize the devil’s deeds. Good people are accused of being toxic for being “too positive”. Evil people are respected for being “too real”. How can you tell who the good ones are? The ones riddled with anxiety, because they are fiercely guarding their hearts from danger. The ones with PTSD, because they were traumatized for having pure hearts and minds. And the psycho angels who are brave enough to lift their swords to fight demons.
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