"I'd tell you the truth."
I'll send it in an envelope,
with only a stranger's handwriting.
smudged by tears,
and stained with coffee rings.
I'll tell you my lies,
that I'm going for good,
that I don't want you to come after me,
say that I hate you.
I'll pretend not to know,
why you wanted me gone,
how much you loved me,
how sorry we are.
I'll tell you the truth,
hidden in lies and regret.
I'll tell you my lies,
hidden in truth.
I'll pretend not to care,
and maybe we'll forget.
YOU ARE READING
How We Were
PoésieThis is poetry of past experiences. This is poetry of what I have seen. There are no main characters. These poems may relate but are not thoroughly connected as one. Each one is about someone or something else. Interpret these poems as you will. I j...
