She never wanted to be the right woman,
But she knew I was the right man.
Manipulation was always her aim,
And her aim was like William Tell’s.
She was the apple of my eye.
Looking back, I realised she never actually lied—
Honestly, I always knew what she was.
But I was blinded
By what my heart had chosen to believe,
Lying to myself willingly.
The weight of loving her grew too heavy,
My vulnerability turned back on me,
My authentic self not on her agenda.
All I ever wished was for her to believe...