The Liar

black-and-white-framed-photo-of-roger-moore

Broken hearts felt like dried thorns pricking at the soles of bare feet. It was a dark love, a dark world. She didn’t mean any harm. A momentary relief etching beauty towards bright lights. She had a mind full of questions with equal answers, yet there were still doubts. She paid her dues with cold hard passion ignited by sparks of fury and weakness.  What was left were memories. Good, bad, and flighty ones, the ones we tried to forget. The truth made an appearance through words laced in silk, dripping from the lips as sweet as honey. The worries kept her up past midnight and only made sleep look like a distant dream. She wanted parts of him to make her feel whole, to fill the emptiness that had been there long before. She would only question her own motives and analyze intentions played by both parties. Time was too much of a valuable thing, and to waste it was ludicrous. She took on the challenge with vigor and made sound reason in that judgement. She had to wait for  the suffering to end. The pain cut deeper than a slit wrist, and stung like a wound being cleaned by an alcohol soaked pad.

She might have lost the only friend she thought she knew so well, but it  was for her own good. It would be months before she could muster any courage for contact. It was better if he didn’t exist. Saddening but true.

She wanted to travel to an outer galaxy with no one but him. He promised her riches on the finest china and offered great bearings of lavished gifts. The inconsistencies went unnoticed for some time. It carted scraps of blood, sweat, and tears into revolving doors of eternal agitation.

It was like having too much air but you still couldn’t breathe. The dark was comfortable and easy. It became a habit of believing the lies. She didn’t want to see it. She didn’t want to end it.

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Can’t Sleep…

*  * *

It was nights like this when I’d write. Bloodshot eyes, whiskey on my breath, and a joint in the hand to help me relax. I’m also typing this with my right hand. A few mistakes but well worth the few puffs I get in before the fire dies out. It’s 3:51 in the mornin’. I miss him like the heavens miss a fallen angel. You feel bad for it up until a certain point. The cats are fed and the dog is filled with poo. Can’t sleep, what am I to do? I made a mistake and prepared for the best, but in my own interest. This joint is working its voodoo. I’m tired now. Goodnight. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

Why I Oughta!!

….slap the s*** out of you.

People will push you, if you let them.

Disregard you, with intention.

Get upset at you, if you address them.

Then question what went wrong when it was them all along…..

You…

You are amazingly beautiful inside and out.

You are the perfect man women dream about.

Your charming good looks and welcoming smile

Opened the door of my heart and stayed awhile.

Your charisma and attention to detail make you one of a kind.

A modern man with old fashion taste make you purely divine.

A special rare one of a kind gem, they don’t make anymore.

Any woman who has lost you, didn’t know what she had in store.