It Has A Morbid Heart

You keep going back to it and let it eat pieces of you bit by bit, but you don't mind.
You think it loves you.
You think that it will give back to you when the time comes.
It doesn't care.
Until one day it will come for the last piece.
The last piece of your body, mind, and soul.
It has taken some of your innocence, and yet you willingly gave some of it away.
It stares at you with desire, yearns to creep under your skin, and it knows your scent.
At first you thought it was beautiful.
You found it beaten and sad so your compassion took over.
You took it in.
Thus it began to grow again and hunger.
The hunger drives it mad, but when you finally realize that it's too late,
Half of you is gone.
To try to get rid of it but no one else want to take it.
It's chained itself to you; locked with a thrown away key.
You feel that you can't escape. The only way for you to separate it for you is to trick yourself.
A trick so good that someone else falls for it, then you leave it for the next person whom it will devour.

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