The candle light flickers,
Casting shadows around the room,
The warmth that it creates,
Fills my bedroom tomb.

I lay here paralised,
Thinking about all of your lies,
Pretending to myself that it's not worth it to cry.
But still, I cry, despite my efforts to try not to.

The stream of tears flows down my face,
And I feel the heat of it on my cheek,
And taste the salty taste.

I burn the poems you wrote me,
Telling me of love and of honesty,
Because you weren't honest with me,
And in love you never will be.