Broken

I love you,

but not like that.

I’m a good liar,

you see –

 

My morning routine consists

of putting on a mask,

blending together so that

the end is the beginning.

 

I love you,

but not like that.

I’m a good liar,

you see –

 

I speak in a different tongue

when I see your eyes,

it leaves a foreign taste,

but I always get a response.

 

I love you,

but not like that.

I’m a good liar,

you see –

 

When our fingers brush

goosebumps spread,

I’m rigid like a statue,

nerve endings on pause.

 

I love you,

but not like that.

I’m a good liar,

you see –

 

I write this poem

with a broken pen,

truth leaks out the top,

no control over the ink.

 

I love you,

but not like that.

I’m a good liar,

you see?

5 Comments

Filed under Poetry

5 responses to “Broken

  1. Clever! It’s fun to experiment with form and structure, isn’t it. Good for you!

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