The Siren has struck again, my friends. Her victims have no idea what they're in for. She feels nothing, sees you falling, watches you embrace her, lets your hands linger on her waist, grin quietly in her direction revealing your teeth while she sits with a tight lipped smile. Arms crossed, eyes lowered, exuding pheromones (her quiet song). Mark my words, boy: You're in over your head.
The Siren will make you think you want her, but after a few weeks, something changes; her song wears off, leaving you with a bad feeling in your gut that makes you want to leave her. Sucked you dry and leaves nothing but an awkward "well, ok" in the fray.
Two known victims are making the advance (a record number for one instance), battling with one another for the spot in her cold, unwelcoming heart.
You know what, the Siren is tired. She's fed up, frustrated, and unloving. You should try again in a couple of weeks. She doesn't have time or energy to put into your pursuits. She doesn't want to hook up or commit or cuddle, she just wants some space and some friendship. Surely, you can give her that?
The Siren apologizes for the inconvenience this causes you, but when she feels numb, stressed, tired, and hurt, the last thing she needs to worry about are the brave souls paddling toward the shore, blinded by the song.
Love may be beautiful and know no bounds, but it is also dumb to do so. You realize that once you fall for her, there is nothing keeping you there but a siren, and until her wings are clipped, she'll continue her path of seduction and destruction, ending up hopelessly alone.
So trapped and so free,
Singing on and on,
Happy to be a caged bird
in demon arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment