The Architecture of Manipulati

The argument was sharp, a steady line, until you pulled the floor from under mine. A sudden pivot, practiced and rehearsed; "No wonder I'm the one they call cursed ." The word "annoying" fell like heavy lead A phantom phrase no one even said. You wore your childhood like a tattered shield, a battlefield I was forced to yield. I told you no I cannot carry this- The weight of every old and bitter kiss- But you poured the story like a flood, To drown the present in your ancient mud. And then the guilt flickered in the hall, To make me doubt the writing on the wall The threats that were sent- venom in the night- you bathed them in soft, forgiving light. But memories aren't shadows in the dark; they leave a cold, white mark. You built a maze to keep the truth at bay, but I found a door and walked away.