Is it these words that I hate, or the way that you say them


You said too much or so it seems
that those words came,
(at least at the time)
far too easily to mind, with me-
even when you spoke not a one,
but let your acts delineate the rhyme.

You said exactly what I needed,
just as I hoped to hear and then,
just when my ear, my self, was satisfied
what reverberated through the silence?
Not but a cresting wake of perjury
that you deftly left behind.

Oh, what fool was I to be twice defiled
by your serrated tongue,
dripping with deceit?
Detest defined my somber cries
as my plea for any account of consistency
was, as expected, once again denied.

At last, have I defied this night
this want to fight the dark-
lose sight, lose sleep, every ounce of me
that, from the start, was hopeful.
I, by some subliminal mind, fled
a great distance, well before ultimate retreat.

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