Kalopsia.

I'll never truly fall for that deceit.

tell me something enough and maybe ill begin to believe,
that the words falling from your mouth and onto my sleeve,
were something that i should never leave,
for its so easy for you to deceive,
and tear the words onto the wall into crimson red fibres,
like strings plucked from my cotton shirt,
and like a million tugs and scratches from orange and black siberian tigers,
but yet the wounds never seem to hurt,
not enough for me to fall to your feet,
and spit the poison you dribbled into my mouth back to the floor,
sweet painful yet numbing deceit,
like the time you locked the door,
whilst i stood in the cold shivering and hoping you would answer one final knock,
like when you held my hand and told me you cared,
and when we stood at the dock and watched as the swans began to flock,
like some dare that we had dared,
it was like a sin to watch them fly,
and it was like raindrops on a petal of a cinquefoil flower in a shrub,
magnetising each curvature and lie,
that laid within each petal and each way it turned to a yellow cub,
a lion cub in a hot safari ground,
sleeping peacefully whilst yet i screamed,
hoping that maybe it'd all be found,
that whilst the red in my hair gleamed,
it was more than just decor to fall onto your floor,
and rather instead i was hoping your friends would reach a hand and pull me out,
pull me out from where i'd been trapped deep stuck to your core,
but i should've listened to each and every word that you had said of doubt,
for of course they never would,
they're your friends of course,
they never would even if they could,
and they're the place that your behaviour could be used as the main source.