In the labyrinth of your laughter, I once danced, oblivious. Each chuckle was a chisel, carving hollows in my spirit. You spun stories, as an artist paints illusions, and I, entranced, lost myself in their hues.
I remember the universe you drew, just you and I. But now, looking back, I see the lines were skewed. You pledged a realm of solitude, of quiet understanding. But in truth, it was a realm of one, your own grandstanding.
Each day unfolded as a silent play. I was cast as the villain, you the innocent in the fray. With each line delivered, I saw my reflection warp in your eyes. An echo of myself, fading into the lies.
A moment of revelation, stark and raw, unmasked the truth. In your realm of reflections, there was no law, just a twisted truth. I found myself a pawn in your grand game, a marionette dancing on the strings of your fame.
You were an enigma, an echo in the void. I was left a husk, as empty as the promises you coyly deployed. In your world of specters, reality was a distant dream, a hazy silhouette on the horizon, a muted scream.
The revelation was harsh, a bitter pill to swallow. But in the end, there was no you, just a hollow echo. A fable, a tale woven in the twilight of trust. In your world of shadows, where love was naught but lust.
Now, I step back from the maze of your lies, breaking free from the chains. Under clearer skies, my reflection I reclaim. No longer the villain in your tale, in the mirror, the truth I finally see. In the stark light of day, I find the path to be free.