The Art of Deception
It came from nowhere,
As a random winter blast of unknown and brightening.
As if I knew you for ages ,
You were there,
As my necessary breath.
Though I thought.
I ignored the doubts.
I’ve brushed the paint from the wall with it
as if I needed reasons
Louder than screaming whispers.
Uncertainty became our passionate routine.
It was who you are.
You painted everything
That my gut warned me about.
Set-backs we’ve tried to repair
With the touch of eyes
Shattered trust to restore with promises
My instincts were begging me
To not to let it soak in.
I’ve known I should have known better.
Still, I have listened, admired and loved you.
There you were with your past and made up suffering,
Made up long lost longing for love
Made up all those lonely years of waiting
Made up gratefulness of how I healed you from it all.
Made up worth of what I was to you.
Made up everything.
You spoke your well trained speeches, well packed train of cowardly indecision.
You’re not longing for what’s good.
You don’t want good.
You’re into calculated blame seeking instead
Of your boredom from simple good.
And there we are.
There, where poison is a destination.
Where afterwards equals regret
Is the place you led me.
It’s where arrival turned into departure
As fast as you and your art
turned into deception.