All the pretty girls.

He was a master of taking hearts but no hearts were ever broken. I never cried for him, I don’t believe anyone else did either. Not that I was aware of, not that I even cared. But the girls like moths flocked to his light. Always all the pretty girls with broken prides and promises. A master of disguise and a gentleman with charming words that entrances even the darkest of hearts. The light that over shadows the illusion of right from wrong. Speaking the words they longed to hear, always there for the taking. Never giving much of anything, but paid no mind taking the countless of hearts that graced his path. A heart lined path that were prized like trophies.

He was so fucking cool.

It was the impression that he gave that made us all wonder. The talking salesman that spoke the words but never cared enough about what the words would mean. His appearance was nothing more than smoke and mirrors, an illusion everyone wanted but nobody could ever attain. The girls knew in the end they were lies but couldn’t help but be wooed in the play. It was always just a play. Just another game that no one ever bothered to win. He won, he lost, most times he just broke even. At least in his mind. The lies out weighed the words and sometimes people would get hurt. Sometimes, but not all the time. He failed to mention certain aspects of his life and in the end everything would come tumbling down. At least that’s what we all wanted. We waited for the demise of the smooth talking man with the cool demeanor. His smooth talking ways would save the world if it could, instead it saved his performance and again he went on his way.

You are so cool.

We all had our part to play. We all had our purpose. All the pretty girls knew to imagine it was over. Don’t believe the gentleman in the sharp suit and the cool talking ways. She knew it all but as silly as girls are believed every lie to be truth. Silly girls believe anything if there’s a feeling involved. Silly girls would drop everything before they fall. Silly girls are silly to believe in the charms of a salesman feeding them lies. We knew it. We all knew it. But we couldn’t help but be silly and foolish in the webs of these lies. We wanted to be the cool girls. The cool girls that could play their part. The cool girls that could match wits with the cool gentleman in the sharp suit. Instead we were all stupid silly girls. Stupid, stupid girls. It wasn’t love, it was lust. It wasn’t fun, it was funny. It was nothing more than a game that we were all sure to lose. No hearts were broken, no hearts were lost. Still he carried our hearts like trophies through paths. The path of victory to the path of our own foolish sorrow. We were all stupid in falling again. Why does this keep happening? Who is the next victim in this play? The play that’s a game and it ends with a loss. What did we lose in the end if it wasn’t our hearts? Just our pride with our dignity in the shameful deceit.

Stupid, silly, girl.

The games are over on my part but I know he still plays. I can’t help but wonder about him from time to time. He liked to talk to all the pretty girls. All the pretty girls at the bar. Sometimes, I want to ask him “Do you still talk to all the pretty girls and lie about all the other girls?”. Is the game still worth the thousands of hearts in your path? Does she know your lies better than the bed you can’t make? I already know all the answers. She makes your bed better than the words that you say. She knows all your lies and still plays all your games. She’s the cool girl in the wave of all the silly stupid girls. But you can’t help but talk to all the pretty girls.

It was always all the pretty girls.


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