Nov 2017
you lied about his eyes
you lied about those writes*
I should've known you better
you never write fictitious *******
for the sake of writing
you don't give a **** about
the crying letters on a blank white page
or the words that ache with pain
you wrote what you hid from me
wrote about the want and need
for another man
A man with eyes as green as the forest
that was no fiction or imagination
your words had lust written all over
you lied about yourself
you lied about us as well
You'd speak of us as the
stars speak of the sun
you'd talk about how in our conversations
the sentences never took too long
to formulate with emotions
You'd tell me how
you're a 10 p.m sleeper
when a goodnight for me in fact
could be a goodmorning for someone else
But I'd let my night pass into day
and let the light of day turn
into the darkness of the night sky
and that is when you'd miss me
when your night sky was dark enough
you lied about your love
you lied about my pain
You'd tell me how I mean more to you
than the green in the grass
or the blue in the sky
You'd tell me how my pain
aches your limbs
and breaks your ribs
But if that was really it
how could you then
give me all this pain
with your lies
every single day of our lives
But if it was true then how could you
not see the pain in the letters I wrote to you
or the letters I scribbled to formulate words
words which made no sense in sentences
except they filled the blank white
with black spite
But in the end
it is not about what you lied about
or why you did
But about the fact
that you did what
i never could
you lied about those writes*
I should've known you better
you never write fictitious *******
for the sake of writing
you don't give a **** about
the crying letters on a blank white page
or the words that ache with pain
you wrote what you hid from me
wrote about the want and need
for another man
A man with eyes as green as the forest
that was no fiction or imagination
your words had lust written all over
you lied about yourself
you lied about us as well
You'd speak of us as the
stars speak of the sun
you'd talk about how in our conversations
the sentences never took too long
to formulate with emotions
You'd tell me how
you're a 10 p.m sleeper
when a goodnight for me in fact
could be a goodmorning for someone else
But I'd let my night pass into day
and let the light of day turn
into the darkness of the night sky
and that is when you'd miss me
when your night sky was dark enough
you lied about your love
you lied about my pain
You'd tell me how I mean more to you
than the green in the grass
or the blue in the sky
You'd tell me how my pain
aches your limbs
and breaks your ribs
But if that was really it
how could you then
give me all this pain
with your lies
every single day of our lives
But if it was true then how could you
not see the pain in the letters I wrote to you
or the letters I scribbled to formulate words
words which made no sense in sentences
except they filled the blank white
with black spite
But in the end
it is not about what you lied about
or why you did
But about the fact
that you did what
i never could
Lying can never be justified no matter what
and a liar who gives you **** for catching their lie.....nothing can ever be worse
and a liar who gives you **** for catching their lie.....nothing can ever be worse
