What the fuck happened to men?
It feels like I only go backwards, baby.
When did you trade loyalty for lies?
When did cheating start to feel like freedom?
When did fucking a stranger become easier
than facing yourself in the mirror?
I’ve watched it too many times.
Egos bruised once, pride nicked once,
and suddenly men lash out like toddlers.
Cruel. Petty.
Mean just to feel tall again.
Don’t tell me you don’t.
We’ve all seen it.
Feels like we only go backwards, darling
You think silence is disrespect.
You think a missed text is betrayal.
So you run.
Straight into another body.
Another distraction.
Another cheap orgasm you’ll hate yourself for in the morning.
It feels like I only go backwards, baby.
Because that’s all it is.
Backwards.
Again and again.
A loop of lies and lust and shame.
It feels like I only go backwards, darling.
When did that become manhood?
When did love turn disposable?
When did devotion get an expiration date?
When did intimacy get swapped for porn-script quickies
and validation as empty as the women you ghost?
But let’s be honest.
It’s not just men who fall into the trap.
The loop doesn’t care what body you’re in.
Revenge cheating. Silent treatments.
Matching betrayal for betrayal.
Keeping the cycle alive like pain is a baton
we can’t stop passing.
And yet—
women still carry the deepest bruise.
Still branded crazy for demanding more.
Still punished for not shrinking small enough.
It feels like I only go backwards, darling.
The seed of all this indecision isn’t me, oh no.
’Cause I decided long ago.
But that’s the way it seems to go when tryin’ so hard to get to something real…
It feels.
And the ugliest part?
I know you won’t read this.
You never do.
So when your wife,
your girlfriend,
the side chick you swear is “different,”
sends this to you—
read it.
Don’t sneer.
Don’t call her crazy.
Don’t roll your eyes like the coward you are.
Because maybe she’s the only one left
still believing you could be something better
than a dick with WiFi.
It feels like I only go backwards, darling.
But the truth is this:
every time men keep running the same game,
every time they confuse conquest for connection,
the song gets louder.
It feels like I only go backwards, baby.
And if you don’t change,
backwards is where you’ll rot.
The loop will eat you alive.
The chorus will be the coffin you built yourself.
It feels like I only go backwards, baby.
Every part of me says, “Go ahead.”
I got my hopes up again, oh no, not again.
Feels like we only go backwards, darling.
And you’ll never crawl out of it.
// Scorpio Veil