PRIDE
She made me prideful.
And who could blame me?
I had a goddess on my arm
a face that softened every thought,
a body that could make saints forget heaven,
skin dark and glossy like polished pearl,
curves sculpted with an arrogance that shamed the earth itself.
Her smile could dim the moon into silence,
her aura carried the calm authority
of a queen who knew she was adored.
She was unlike anything I had ever seen.
She was mine,
and she made me proud.
GREED
I had her
fully, freely, faithfully.
But I wanted more.
More of her time, her breath, her presence,
her affection, her surrender,
her everything.
I kept reaching,
demanding, stretching her thin
until she had nothing left to give.
She was enough,
she gave enough
but greed had its claws in my heart.
And I let it.
And I was greedy.
LUST
I had never hungered before her.
She awakened a craving in me
that felt like starvation
raw, consuming, primitive.
Her beauty pulled breath out of my lungs,
her curves rewrote the meaning of desire,
her skin smooth, warm, impossible not to touch
drove me past reason.
Her femininity wrapped around my mind,
her voice melted into my bones,
her laugh ignited sparks beneath my ribs.
And when she moved,
when she whispered,
when her breath brushed my neck,
something ravenous inside me clawed its way free
a hunger only she could satisfy.
She had me on my knees,
and she knew it.
I was lustful.
ENVY
She told me she was mine
and I believed her.
But envy dripped into my veins like poison.
Anyone who looked at her,
admired her,
caught her smile,
heard her soft voice
I despised them.
I wished their eyes would burn,
their hearts collapse,
their breath stop.
I hated strangers for existing near her,
hated shadows for touching her before I did.
The jealousy grew,
feral and uncontrollable,
until she felt it tremble beneath every word I spoke.
She saw it.
She felt it.
I was envious.
GLUTTONY
`I devoured her.
Her body, her presence.
Her softness, her warmth, her essence.
I wanted more of her today,
more of her tomorrow,
more of her than any one person
should ever need.
She thought she wasn’t enough
but she was more than enough.
It was me.
I was the glutton,
the addict,
the one who could not stop consuming the comfort she carried.
And she mistook my endless appetite
for her inadequacy.
WRATH
RAGE!
Boiling, blistering, wild.
I hated that she smiled at others,
that some men dared to desire her,
that strangers breathed near her light.
I hated people I didn’t know
just because they lived in her orbit
while I couldn’t always be there.
Every laugh she shared with someone else,
every moment I wasn’t the center
it burned through me
like fire without mercy.
I was wrath incarnate.
SLOTH
She was my peace,
my calm,
my home.
And because she held me so gently,
I slipped into stillness.
I stayed indoors,
wrapped in the comfort she became.
And slowly,
I stopped trying.
No more tea waiting for her,
no home-cooked meals to make her smile,
no rooftop nights whispering dreams into the dark,
no space held carefully for her heart.
I grew lazy with the love she gave so freely.
I let comfort steal the man she fell in love with.
AND SO…
This is how I lost the love of my life.
Not because she planted sin in me
but because I let those sins bloom.
I welcomed them
and destroyed the one thing
that meant everything to me.
The line that changes this whole piece for me is “I let comfort steal the man she fell in love with.”
Because pride, lust, jealousy, even wrath are loud. Sloth is quieter. It’s making tea until one day you don’t. Cooking for her until you stop. Planning rooftop nights until loving her becomes something you assume she already knows instead of something you actively show.
And THAT feels like the tragedy underneath all seven sins. You didn’t describe a man who stopped loving her. You described someone who loved her intensely enough to consume her, but not wisely enough to keep choosing her.
I felt every bit of this, the lines hit really hard and the flow is just incredible.
I’m talking like a critic😂. I’m just happy to have read this refreshing piece.