Trust me, I know the type
I kept his memories inside a luggage
Along with his old jacket and deleted texts
When I saw that smile, I knew
He reeked of cigarettes and cheap cologne
Strutting around disguising unwanted advances
As harmless flirtation

Tricking you into banter and secrets
Hiding behind charming smiles
And welcoming hands
Ready to undress your self-esteem

Damage and control are his lingua franca
As his eyes follow the curves of your body
His fingertips calculating your weak points
Pushing you on your knees
Hands crossed, head down like a prayer
Begging for forgiveness and validation
Maybe sex can be a solution
For all of your unresolved issues

Building pillow forts to nurse your insecurities
Until you are too afraid to leave the door
Trapping you in the deceitful comfort of their arms
Cradling your doubts and fears
It feels like love, almost protection

Until you see the cuts on your hands
From grabbing on too tightly
When he pulled himself away from your touch
Back turned, you start to feel the weight of his words
You find it hard to breathe
You start to miss the scent of his cigarettes

Good memories of him feel like a fantasy
He blurred the lines between who he was
And who he was supposed to be
You find the mask he wore when you first met
Laced in his cologne
That you now know is poison

After a while, you still start to heal
Happily repressing every thought of him
Leaving his baggage in the corner of a room
Collecting dust and mold
It is then you will see the warning signs
The red flags waving with a smile
You will know the type

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