it's quite simple, really.
i will never blame you for ruining my idea of love-even though i caught you tangled up in silk sheets with women that weren't me and eyes that weren't mine. i will not say i harbour hate or that my perception of love is fickle because of the pain you inflicted.
no, i simply choose to believe that you did not give me love-you gave me the illusion of love.
and if six summers ago, you hadn't given me the illusion, pain and heartbreak that followed, i would never have realized how much i thirst for the real thing. it wasn't with you, but i never would've dreamt of having it with someone else, had it not been for the illusion you gave.
YOU ARE READING
RECTIS CORDE LAETITIA
Poetrythe moon mirrors the pallor on my face and i sit here retching songs into stone for you
