Yesterday, love was a child under your doorstep, enthusiastic, playful, and fashionable.
Today, I watched an act of war on your doorstep. You're a playground for violent storms.
What happened to you, Emily? And whose war was it?
Your dress was stained with fresh blood, and your looks hardened, pieces of glass penetrated your cheek.
I'm not your lovely Emily, that weak character, that naive girl.
My kingdom is a land of war, not peace. I’ve slain lovers like you for ages.
I'm a cycle of anger imagined by people like you.
I'm a reflection of imperfect mirrors, my sword, and my wrath will bulldoze my routes.
Fear me. I'm not that Emily.

artwork unknown