dynamic [poetry]

071115 - fidelity

"Trust me..."

One would have to had seen hell in all it's glory to feel like this. A feeling I would not bestow on any living soul.
To feel the taunting eyes of my friends casted on my body, showering me with numbingly cold looks of pity and second hand embarrassment.

The secrets and fibs danced hand in hand on my shoulders to a tune of my own choked sobs and cries. As one lie was knocked down, another stood right behind it. A domino effect, essentially, but the only thing that would topple over at the end was me.

Every morning I would wake up in a bed made of my own tears and shards of glass. Every night I went to sleep in a cot of barren oaths and a broken heart.

If I could go back in time, I wouldn't have kissed him between the sweaty sheets and I wouldn't have spilled my heart into her bony hands.

I'd often find myself cooped up on the corner of a rooftop at the break of dawn, sputtering words of false faith and reassurance in hope that maybe one day I'd be as gullible as they pegged me to be and actually believe what I've been saying to myself.

I was always on the cusp of killing these thoughts or killing myself. But I wouldn't dare. Because the last words that would have crossed my mind would've been

"Trust me..."