Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Politics and History

I kept my eyes steady,
up ahead,
drinking honey by the handful,
howling internally when our hands met,
because I was burning,
in the most unpleasant fashion,
and I never said,
to save your feelings,
I just kissed you,
to keep my mouth from screaming.

I was pulled in two directions,
tired arms and lonely legs,
not yours anymore,
tarnished and torn apart,
by some words that I said,
and some lies that I made lonesome,
just like my legs,
as they walked, rather gingerly,
towards the truth.

I dream of you, sometimes,
out of guilt, I think,
because I wanted to be the lie I told you,
because that’s the “normal” way to be,
and you were my favourite hiding place.

I can’t hide anymore. They all know.

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