He'd said that he would always be honest;
That was the one thing, if nothing else,
He'd always be to me, and I believed him.
So I suppose I believed it too, when he said that
He loved me and he wanted me.
He said that he'd try to do his best by me,
But perhaps I wasn't the fool just yet -
Maybe I trusted him because we were together;
Because I should have been able to.
Even the first time that I asked him to treat me
A little better than he had been,
Perhaps it was fair to believe him when he agreed,
But somewhere between the second, third and fourth time,
Maybe I was a fool for believing him -
A fool for believing the same promises time and time again.
Perhaps I didn't want to accept it.
If he had promised that he would always be honest
And yet acted this way,
That promise had never meant anything: how many
More lies had there been?
It seems harsh to call them lies, I know,
But how many things had he said simply for convenience?
Did he ever love me at all,
Or was I just being used?
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoetrySo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
