Trauma Bonds

A fire feigning passion born,
Evolved into fury and scorn.

Listen as every trace of us,
Bracelets, candles, love grenades,
Efface in a cathartic fit of rage.

But lurking is a mask you wore,
A bag of tricks for charm and allure,
Confusing the heart like a drunken stupor.
Feelings of caring tender seeds,
Off of which an ego feeds.

Don’t look straight into its eyes,
I turn my back and let it die.