Was It Lies
You can call me what you will,
But your opinion does not define me.
If you say I am a hypocrite,
Then every word I said was a lie.
But it felt more real to me
Than praising the lord from a church pew on Sunday mornings.
Every time my lips parted to whisper the words “I love you”
I meant them more than every time I said I was hungry.
And every time I held you close,
I loved it more than I loved myself.
If you could ask every person I spoke to
While you were away
They would say I loved you with devotion.
I could have had any guy I wanted.
But I waited. For my boy. Who never returned.
I waited. Spoke of nothing with more pride and love than I did of you.
The person who returned was a stranger’s soul inhabiting my boy’s body.
You tore me apart, tendon from tendon with every word you spoke, like knives carving me into pieces.
They didn’t understand the depth at which I fell for you.
And how badly you had the power to hurt me with your words.
Because I practically worshipped the ground you walked.
Heart pounding, tears flowing at every letter I received.
The first time I heard your voice, I broke down in a torrent of tears.
My friends told me they had never seen me so damn happy.
If you call me a hypocrite,
Then you are lying to yourself because you can’t get over me.
You know damn well no one ever treated you as good as I did.
I was your world, and you were mine, but in a flash the memories were lies.
Corrupted by time and hatred, and corroded by bitterness.
Copyright © Super Nova | Year Posted 2019
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