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Lies
You say you love me, every one of your actions contradicts,
Repeating empty ‘I love you’s enough times until the mantra sticks,
The word is meaningless to you, you’ve proven this consistently,
Your every choice has unequivocally been made to distant me,
Yet you continue to blatantly lie, you continue unabashed to meat-grind my heart,
I’m the dog you claim to love so much, yet you’ve chosen to return to Petsmart,
The words, so many hollow words, you’re a factory for nice, vapid sentences,
Churning them out in mass, all as your vindictive, malicious mother refuses any ‘repentances,’
You’ve sided with the facade you’ve created, the alternate reality void of reality,
The previous Elise is gone for good, every memory of us raped of sentimentality,
I’m tired, I’m exhausted, I’m drained,
The speck of hope you’d come back, until this day it had always remained,
To call you a liar, to call you deceptive,
Inaccurate, too kind, to logic and love you’re now unreceptive,
Even for the worse, a slave to her mother and the sickest of her desires,
I’ve tried everything, given it all up, but her brain impervious to any re-wires,
I’m suddenly alone, she’s died yet is still breathing,
It’s over finally, closed without closure, sighing with relief yet increasingly seething,
Every morning, as I force myself to jog, every white car, I hope it’s you finally driving home,
Every morning, as I face another round of dejection, no love-is-finally-re-arriving poem,
I’m stuck, hoping for the old Elise to break back through, waiting while speed-balling,
I’m breaking apart, physiological and psychologically, the result of each unfulfilled need falling,
Each day doesn’t seem to change much, I could re-write the same thing a million times,
Each day turns into the last, it’s happy death day until my death bell finally chimes,
I write these words to be heard by willingly deaf ears, and yet I continue to write,
I hope in the absence of justification, I push forward in the absence of any reason to fight,
In the glaring absence of friends, in the plain absence of support,
I wake up the next day, my eyes open even if I fall severely short,
My life feels devoid of meaning, especially juxtaposed to before,
Heroin my buddy, regardless of side effects, muscles and veins perpetually sore,
I’ll print these out, these silly little poems, and on the wall they’ll gather dust,
The one takeaway - in another human, never place your trust…
