The Black Widow 

She woke up on the right side of the bed

even though it was the wrong bed.

A euphoric release from his touch,

such a familiar, yet disconnected feeling.

How lucky to feel wanted. 
But the feelings of ecstasy  fade, 
An abrupt comedown 

from her contact high.

Crash. 

She relapsed on her image of poetic irony

as she’s filled to the brim with emptiness

from throwing herself to loveless lovers. 
Her fickle heart is alluring, they say. 

Don’t men love the chase? 

She doesn’t mean to harm. 
But all the same,

She’ll wake up in an unfamiliar place  

while repeating her vicious cycle.

Like a black widow, she uses men

to fill her void…
…only to rip their hearts out in the morning 

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