i finished writing;
took a sip of my drink.

it's gotten cold.
like your promises, all those words.
the i love yous that were forced,
all the lies that weren't untold.

i'm no stranger to them, at all;
by now, i expect you've been told
of my double facade,
my words to uphold,
and maintain in italic
but also in bold.
i scream, directly, at my lungs
and your toes
'cause i can't seem to look you in the eyes,
not anymore.