Lies and Love

To love is to lie, and to lie is to love.

We love our lies, and lie to our love.

They are the same word.

They’re not different words at all.

If you love me, you lie to me.

If you lie to me, you love me.

 

You loved me when you said it’d always be us.

You lied to me when we kissed for the last time.

Now I have to think we must be deep in love.

Because all you do now is lie.

But for some reason, I don’t follow the rules.

I love you and I don’t lie.

 

And if to lie is to love, then perhaps a secret is long lasting love.

Our relationship was a secret.

When you kissed me, it was a secret.

When you kissed him, it was a secret.

When I talked to you under our tree, it was in secret.

We were a secret.

 

And if to love is to lie, I must love myself.

I lied to myself when I said, “He loves me.”

I lied to myself when I said I was ok.

I lied to myself when I said that the blade could stop the pain.

I lied to myself when I said I love myself.

Now I can’t lie any longer.

 

The sad thing is I’m ok with your antics.

I lied.

I’m not ok, but it has to be ok.

If I say it's not, you’ll leave me.

Life with you is bad.

Life without you is Hell.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741