PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Don't lie to me...

Don't feed me lines...



"I can handle you like that...

I love you."



Yeah, "LOVE" a flippant four letter word TOSSED AROUND...

When it is convenient for you!

To try and make ME feel warm and fuzzy all over...

It won't work.



I don't trust you,

I don't trust my friends,

I don't to a degree trust my own therapist any more...

Everyone knows too much...

I am too vulnerable...

And would rather die...

Than to be hypervigilant--

Preparing cases to defend myself when consciously I know--



THERE ARE NONE BUT MY HEART STILL FEARS...

BUT YOU CAN'T HAVE CREDIT...THIS IS MY PARANOIA.



And you said you can love me like "THIS"...

Knowing my emotions are raw, course, happy, everything,

As varied as individual snowflakes.

You thought you knew, what life with me would be like...

Yet, you had no idea.



There is no evidence that shows me I have reason...



TO TRUST...



I'd rather dine with strangers I'll never see again.

To be in conversations about "my life" with transients...

Why would they want to retain something to use against me...

Especially when they have more pressing matters...

     Like where they will find their next meal,

       Or where they will sleep that night.





This is not about you...

This is about me...

How I wear my heart on my sleeve...

How I take people at their word...

And with my illness, wear sunglasses like blinders,

Steeping denial in my veins.

Knowing in the end, I should have never trusted so openly...

In the first place.



I am angry at me,

I am a victim of my own illness and that sucks.

You are a victim of my illness and that sucks also.

You are a victim of my insecurity...but did that come

    Before or after my illness became unmanageable...

    How much is my fault!

You are a victim of your own illness and that sucks...

I am a victim of your illness and that sucks also...

    But did that come before or after your illness became

           Unmanageable...

    How much is your fault!



How much?

No one will know...

Each thought brings another question,

Another unresolved dilemna.



Will either of us be loved...truely loved.



Will you ever trust?  Will I ever trust?

Will either of us stop looking over our shoulders...



Will our illness's ever stop???