Religion has it, that even in the ancient times, love had already clouded man's vision from truth, in word and in deed. Fast forward to the 21st century.
You are Delilah. It is definitely not your physique, nor is it your meerkat-like features people tend to point out, but the way you make your flaws the building blocks of your perfection. It is the way you force the darkest parts of my soul out of me for you to discover. You fool me with that smile of unfeigned delight every time we cross paths, thinking I was the reason behind it. You fool me into thinking I have found something special, something different in you. You are not a liar, that's one thing I know, but you had always made me believe in something that does not and will never exist between us.
I am Samson, the victim of deception. It is the way I believed every word, every move, every breath. It is the way I put in more meaning to what truly is. It is my willingness to let you know about the darkest parts of my soul, giving into your pleas. The way I refuse to believe that you're toxic because you are broken and so easily manipulated. It is the way I fool you into not knowing how I really feel towards you. It's not your fault, that's one thing I know. It was my mistake for not believing in the simple truth; it does not and will never exist between us. But most of all I am Samson, the fighter. That despite having you cut off my hair of strength, my only defense; my locks seemed to grow back and I finally started to believe in the truth: it may not and may never exist between us, but it may between me and somebody else.
