He lied,
he lied to me about
his broken past.
He lied,
he lied to me that
he loved me.
he lied,
he lied to me about
how much he cared for me.
He lied,
he lied to me about
our future together.
He lied,
he lied to me that
he'd never betray me.
He lied,
he lied to me about
everything we did together.
He lied,
he lied to me about
all of him.
Was it one big lie?
or a million small lies?
I could never tell.
But within his lies
I found a home
for myself
because his pleasing lies
feel more safe
than his ruthless truths.
-r.f.
P.s. it feels so good to write here after so long 😌❤
YOU ARE READING
Epiphany.
Poesia"Why turn depression into suicide when you can turn it into something beautiful like poetry?" . -r.f.
