When you dance with the devil, betrayal is not a misstep, it's not some fleeting moment of faltering in the rhythm --- it’s the entire choreography, stitched into the very fabric of the waltz you thought you could master. Every sway, every spin, every seductive glide is laced with deception. You think you can outpace him, maybe even rewrite the rules. But what you fail to see is that there are no rules with him. He drips betrayal like sweat, every gesture a broken promise, every breath a loaded dice roll. Lower your expectations—no, crush them beneath your heel, grind them into the dust where they belong. Expecting fidelity from him is like expecting a flame not to burn. Agreements with the devil? Laughable. A contract you thought you sealed with a handshake will be shattered before the ink even dries, the clauses rewritten in invisible ink. His betrayal isn’t a glitc...
I dwell in the spaces where shadows meet light, where questions outnumber answers. A seeker of truths buried deep, I write to unearth what lies beneath the surface. In the chaos, I find my voice. In the silence, I find myself.