on the one who made me afraid .

i'm not sure what it was in your life that made you feel that
you had to shout to be heard 
and only violent hands could get your point across

i'm not sure what made you think of manipulation as
the only way to get what you're after
and faux-kindness something you can sell to the highest bidder (for a time)

somewhere in life you mastered the one-sided argument
and learned to twist words till they sound nothing the same as
when they came out

your voice became a siren in my nightmares
and i used to hear it right before i feel asleep, then re-awaken
heart pounding

and even after i got out, making sure i'd never cross your path again
even then i'd peek around corners and speak in hushed tones
and hold my breath when the phone would pierce through the silence

S. 

{Photo: Flickr Margaret Durow}

Poisoned ink.

as much as i can claim that it happened years ago (or yesterday), it hasn't. 
i guess, when i've truly purged you from my system, i'll know. 

it will be when i go to write and you are not the one that leaks out. 

S. 

{Photo via: We Heart It}

Promise.

Please don't see how broken I've become:
The way the words and lies have made me numb.

Please promise you won't look as closely as before.
You need not know me anymore.

[Yours always,]

S.

{Photo via: Favim}

What we won't speak of.

I would write my heart upon a page, if promised that you'd never see.

But no such promise will be made, so this remains in mystery. 

Don't ask me; I'll only lie. 

S.

{Photo via: We Heart It}

This Heart's A Mess.

My tongue is quick to lie, I'm finding. It surprises me a little to note how many times I'll have some fiction at the ready, how I'm prepared at any moment to tell something less than true.

Sometimes it's a half-lie, bordered in truth; some glimmer of fact peppered throughout. And often, not. Just a full out invention. Void of all honesty.

I'm realizing this, and I'm trying now - now that I know - to right myself. To slow down the quickly constructed replies and ask myself: why not the truth?

What are you hiding from? And what will be the consequence if it were brought to light, rather than stuffed
                   deep
                                        deep
                                                            deep
                                                                              down inside of me ?

                            [Why all this hiding?]

So the answer is yes. That's what I meant to say to you. That was the proper - true - reply, but instead you got something else, something less than you deserved. Something I wish I could believe. But you were right, and that unnerved me. 

S.

P.S. What If I Told You - Jason Walker

{Photo: Eliftanman Flickr}