fake it

She can see right through you, right through that steely gaze you’ve locked on her. She can see the hate in your eyes and the bitter taste of disgust you’ve got in your mouth. She can see it in your every move, from the moment you walked in her door, to the moment you will leave again. She can see you’re ready to be rid of this place that oozes darkness. It’s her place.

You may have come with your good intentions paraded high above your head in gold cursive writing, but she’s taking none of it. It just makes it worse that you come with an agenda, because it means you’re just like the rest of the men who knock at her door. Here to put yourself at ease, it’s got absolutely nothing to do with her. 

So she puts up that impenetrable wall. She treats you like a customer. Someone come to use and empty her and then leave again. Someone who leaves their humanity at the door and then picks it up again at the end. She mimics the hate in you. She can’t seem to leave this place with her heart intact any longer. It’s especially hard for her, when she’s always to-and-fro from this place. 

So this time around you’re going to have to try and “love from the centre of who you are, don’t fake it”.

You can’t fake love with a woman who has seen it all. She knows the difference between love and lust, love and guilt, love and passion, love and money. She knows love, because she knows what it’s definitely not. So she can see when it’s from the centre, and when it’s definitely not. You can’t fake love. 

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