Dear Puppeteer

Your truth was elusive
You indulged in my innocence
While
Captivating my senses
Before my eyes, what malice to behold?
Your heart knew no sin
Opulent in benevolence, the purest of its kind
You conveyed the most exemplary love
And not even your most mundane faux pas
Could alter my perception of you
You settled on too high a pedestal
Then came the absence of my intuition
The absence of my intellect
Your decadence disguised as devotion
Caressing duplicity in spite of my adoration
As I resume rationality, it is clear
You are not the white dove you portrayed
But I’ve seen the child behind the mask
The coward to whom I dedicate these words
The coward who dubbed me their puppet
To that coward, I write,
Dear Puppeteer,
The strings have been cut.