Contradictions

You utter

that four letter

word while your hand

is wrapped around her waist.

Why I still think about your taste

I’ll never understand.

you keep saying I’m yours

but our distance tells me otherwise.

So why do I act surprised

when the excuses arrive again?

I keep trying to shut my door

knowing you’ll sneak back in.

But I’ll wake up with the sunrise

and count the spiders under my bed,

battling contradictions in my head.

You’ll contact me in the afternoon

and pretend you’ll visit very soon,

then you’ll repeat your signature phrase:

“I love you.”

But I know you don’t meant it, as always.

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Author: Kalia Attal

I am an aspiring investigative journalist with a single dream: to save the world. It may seem impossible, but I believe knowledge promotes tolerance, and tolerance breeds empathy, kindness, and compassion. Love is the cure for Earth's cancer.

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