Truth is a Bitch

Bitter was the flower my lips tasted in March

Her name was truth, trusting was the meaning of her name


deep inside she never knew love, and was too caught up into her self  to understand it.

As I proceeded to show her what kind of love I possessed, impressed I was by her

beauty and longed to see what would unfold as I undressed her with my eyes and

put hands on petals kissing every part of her flesh


 hearing her say nothing as if deaf women spoke words and heard them.

I was drunk and in love with the idea of her, but you see truth was a lie  and her

motive was to defy the laws of nature and to take whatever was given  to her as if I

owed her something.


One week was the sentence of my punishment and it eats the very soul of my

kindness I shared with her my being, bearing every secret every flaw every

disappointment  but I held my fears to myself because telling all left me vulnerable

and placid.

And to think as I beared my morals ,and my desires  to be intimate with this enigma

I felt attracted to  the possibility of understanding myself and that was everything I

hated in me but manifest in this bitch truth.


And when we were through it was as if nothng ever happened and all was a bad

dream  and the bitter taste gone but left in my chamber was her scent.  but her taste

sweet and bitter was a lie and the pain of rejection left my eyes dry because there

are no tears for loveless truth, her ways of deceit preyed on me like  a carvnivores

treat gnarling at  her meal, fangs out claws sharp waiting to devour me whole .