Crazy

She asked him where he’d been. He said she was crazy for questioning him. She asked him why he stayed gone. He assured her it was better to be alone. She asked him when he’d be home. He reminded her he was never wrong. She asked him who left the lipstick on his collar. He told her a lie about the stain being her color. She asked him how long he’d been lying. He swore that their love wasn’t dying. She asked him which smile he’d been faking, He sighed, silent as the darkness forsaking. She asked him and he never truly answered. Because, without a doubt, his love was synthetic. Love this phony – it’s like saying that baloney, Is ham or steak… It’s a story, taller than any tale yet told, By the heart who, though it is made of gold, Knows the tale is just a fable to unfold, A fable meant to keep feelings believing, In a love that is destined to see through, revealing All the lies that one heart is using, to convince another, To keep letting him abuse her, With the stories that are made up to confuse her. He tells her she’s crazy and she believes she is, Knowing she’s crazy… because she’s still in love with him.