Life is a placebo.
Endless obstacles,
difficulties to overcome.
Eyes set on goals
we'd thought we'd achieve
even if it drained us
of all but an inkling
of hope.
Lies on parchment
the truth of life,
and I am but a quotation,
repeating words of false hope
so others can believe
we don't all die
wishing to amend
even one
mistake.

I didn’t care
Swear
You and I
It meant nothing to me too

You were just someone to pass the time
Swear
I didn’t care

The excitement I felt when you would stare a  too long meant nothing to me

You were someone to pass the time with
I didn’t crave it more when you lips pressed lightly on my body

Neck

Fingers

Forehead

Lips

It meant nothing to me
Swear

I didn’t want it more
Swear
I didn’t care

I wasn’t falling for you
Your just a friend
Who was a bit friendly then most

I didn’t want you, too
Swear
I wasn’t madly in love with you
I have no reason to lie

I don’t love you

I didn’t care
When you found someone else

I was happy for you
You wanted more

I was not heartbroken
We were just friends
I wasn’t heartbroken
Swear

Best to be left us in the past
And it’s not like I was in love with you
Swear

I don’t love you
Swear

(how to convince me otherwise)

Look outside,
Is it snow or
summer’s eyes?
Fate plays
gossamer lies,
Yet I’ll try,
If not in this one,
find you in every life.

my everything 7.17.25 (6:08 pm / 18:08)
what did i say when you told me everything?
nothing?
everything, too?

is is even important to remember?
or too important?

so
what will you say when i tell you
everything

all my truths and so then all my lies
what will you do?
when you know, when you know, when you know
that you have known nothing
almost all along?

i'm sorry really flipping ******* sorry
i hope you don't mind i stole your words
i hope you don't mind i stole your trust
i hope you don't mind i simply could not make myself tell you

that everything

so
what will you say?

i suppose
let the stars speak for us.

I am a pathological liar.

I tell you I hate the winter time, yet I spend hours sledding down icy hills.

I swear I crave attention, but I’m always the one avoiding group dinners.

I profess my disdain for chaos, yet my desk is cluttered with half-finished plans.

I say I’m done with the past, yet I reread old messages like a ritual.

I call myself steady, but I change my mind every time the wind shifts.

I claim I’m tired of this city, though I’ve memorized the names of every street.

I promise I’ll let go, yet I still save receipts from years ago.

I contradict myself with a precision I can’t help but admire,
And maybe the paradox is the most honest thing about me.

She painted me in violent red
Dripping oil and
Strokes of toxic lead
Painted bloodied battle scenes
Of her, martyred
Me, dead
Vast imagery to tell her story,
Duplicitously
She painted her face
On every soldier, replaced,
And sold it museum to museum,
Showcased
I am the pawn,
Exhausted
A lifetime of submission
Of holding up hers,
Supported
I jumped ship, swam to shore
Faced my pain,
Drew lines in the sand,
Ended my war
She sings to the world her lies
Still, now
And paints me in violent red
From the cut she made,
From the wounds she bled.

I keep living
As though love
Comes with strings attatched
And try as I might
I cannot cut through
That lie.