Home > diary, family, poetry > Deception


The worry is still in my heart, scratching away
At the very lining where love should be, to my dismay.
It’s been two days now, forty-eight hours is long
Rest awhile worry; you have nothing to feed on.

I tell myself this each time he lies, “tells a falsehood”,
“pretends with intent to deceive”, “says the untruth”,
“distorts reality”, then says he’s been misunderstood.
I tell myself he cares, he’s just regressed into youth.

But I know I’m fooling myself, much as happens when
I tell myself he wants me to achieve, to succeed, to win.
No matter what he’s done, no matter if I get ahead
He lets me believe best wishes are all that’s in his head.

I know that’s a lie too. My missing the then-critical
company presentation on campus was atypical
I know I bite my lip a thousand times and sit and hush
When I want to talk about flying, to crow, to exclaim, to gush.

I always knew he’d push away my plans to travel – and not
in the way I do, directly, but slowly – using intrigue and plot
I knew he’d be not too different from others that begat him
They believe they and all women, ought exist at their man’s whim

But I know, and have spoken often about the destruction
that is wrought in my heart with falsehoods, with deception.

For if it is this easy to pretend to have started when not,
To lie about an accident and be certain he wont get caught.
Then what’s stopping more crucial untruths, the evilness
inside from coming out and finding a permanent address.

When he doesn’t have the best intentions for me, and does
not hesitate to hide the fact, what keeps me safe? Because
all that stays true is my trust. When that is asked to leave,
again, and again, to stay back means to just self-deceive.

Categories: diary, family, poetry
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