broken bikes

of liars

they said she hated lies,

even more than she hated the people who told them

she hated the sound they made,

as they squeezed out between clenched teeth

she hated the guilt that shone in the eyes,

once a lie had escaped from the mouth

they said she hated lies,

with a burning passion that no one could match

not even the boy she pretended to love,

or the friends that she pretended to have,

or the reflection in the mirror that seemed to mock her

they said she hated lies,

because lies meant heartbreak,

and lies meant foolishness,

and lies meant making promises that no one ever intended to keep

but lies were her salvation

they said she hated lies,

and that was what broke her in the end

because no matter how much hatred she possessed,

for lies and for the people who told them,

she could never escape the fact

that the person who lied the most,

the person whose lies unravelled heartstrings

and fooled minds

and broke promises,

was her.