Hell must be empty she thought
‘cause all the demons are here
in this dark lonely place
she once thought was heaven.
He was life sucking in his perfection
leaving her an empty husk
no longer the woman she once was
each day a dreaded hanging page,
operating system frozen.
Smiling arrogant bastard;
he clips coupons to save a few pennies
while wearing slippers
he keeps in a cozy space.
Her friends told her
such men will hurt you,
laughing when she spoke of his perfection
“Give him the Voight-Kampff test!
No one here believes he’s real”
But she could not see
beyond addicting toxic beauty
or notice that the Siren call
was off key ever so slightly
Circe leading her to the rocks.
And so on a rainy Sunday morning
while he slept in his pajamas
she decided over coffee that she hated him
and would not live here
illustration by Act Yos