After the lie, truth is a gamble

After the lie, truth is a gamble, A shattered glass from which my thirst longs to drink, I know the edges of the heart can be cut, Yet still, I seek sincerity as if it's a treasure. Ask me why trust is a sandcastle, Why "I promise" is just a noise in my silence, Why I reread old conversations like poems, Searching for warmth in rooms where I once felt at home. I've sat with emptiness, no mask, no forced smile, Letting solitude breathe, revealing to me That being alone is purer than being lost among people, When I needed them, they scattered like leaves in the wind. I'll never forget what it's like to write long messages Only to delete them, knowing the reply will be short, Like a dream ending abruptly, without warning, What it's like to feel invisible in a crowd, a silent echo. To be there for everyone, yet see no one coming, That's their game, not noticing when you stop writing first, Not wondering why you're quieter, Not feeling your absence until they need something. But by then, you've learned to live without them, You've learned that silence is a more faithful friend, That the path of solitude can be paved with light, That finding yourself means being reborn from the ashes of deceit. And so, you continue to walk through waves of memories, Always seeking that truth that won't break, Won't hurt, won't get lost—a truth pure and whole, A beacon in the night, a light that will not dim.