Master of Corruption.

…I guess this is how you'll let me fall.
standing at the other end of the playground
and laughing at the hope that I had.
Your trickery was fatal and you knew that all along.
Leading me forward, allowing me to trip over my own leash.
Stumbling my way to you, where you would throw me a bone
So I could run out in the field and be left behind, forlorn.

Trembling in that forsaken hallway where you left your child.
Aching to see your thin silhouette appear in that always-vacant entrance.
“Solitary confinement,” you said. “I promise it will be worth it end it end.”
Much more like furtive captivity, left with nothing but memories.

You always left the best wounds (the kind that rarely heal.)
You always spoke the worst words (the ones I know are real.)
You always left at the most awful times (when I need you most.)
You always went with the finest lines (the ones that make me choke.)

I hope you know you were the perfect planner,
The Master of Corruption.