She tried to outplay him,but he always seemed ahead,
Being in his presence is ultimately what she dread.
He used her past as shield to deflect his next move,
If she’s not strategic she might gain a bruise.
He played the cards well that she was not yet dealt,
Isolation and hopelessness is what she felt.
She learned how to bluff and fold her next hand,
She refused to give up even if she was damned.
As the game plays on opponents start to fold,
The thought of being alone with him is very, very, cold.
Her bluffs and folds finally lead to a royal flush,
She now owns the story of her own paint brush.
She lays her cards down and it’s the end of the game,
She is no longer a victim ruled by his shame.
