Poets are liars.
We are never honest and even if we seem to be honest and raw,
We are not.
We are selfish and egotistic and make ourselves out to be victims.
We only write about what hurts us.
We write about our pain and suffering.
On top of that, we blame it on the lovers after lovers that have gone wrong.
You've already read it a thousand times,
The story of a how a person broke our hearts and tricked our innocent minds.
However, what we never write about is the hearts we break and the pain we cause.
I am not as innocent as I've made myself seem in my poems.
Yes, I fall in love with fools and they break my heart every time,
But sometimes I wonder if it’s just what I deserve.

Let me tell you about this girl,
There’s been a girl willing to set herself on fire for me but I handed her the matches and left…
I never saw the beauty of her flame burning for me.
I’m cold now without anyone to warm me.

Oh God, there was this girl who I let starve because I thought she had already ate too much.
I didn't want to be another bittersweet revenge on her plate…
Only to find out that she was honestly hungry for the love she thought I could give her.
I've read her cooking books,
She makes sweets for an honest guy now.
And now I’m the one who’s hungry.

And oh, there was a girl with a broken heart but with strong mind that wanted to touch me.
I thought I was too opulent for her ***** soul.
Later on I found out she had mines of gold and diamonds running through her thoughts.

I've hurt a lot of people.
I've hurt them the way this girl is hurting me.
And now I am screaming for forgiveness.
I've been so ruthless with their good hearts.
I am down on my knees begging the ghosts to stop haunting me every time I try again.

I’m a liar.