You said it softly,
so softly that I almost missed it.
The lie slipped through your lips
like a thief in the night,
quiet, unassuming, but deadly sharp.
It settled between us,
a silent intruder,
changing the air we breathe,
poisoning the spaces
where truth used to live.
I watched your eyes,
how they flickered away,
how they darted like shadows
escaping the light.
Your smile was a mask,
a porcelain facade that cracked at the edges,
barely holding back the truth.
I wanted to reach out,
to touch the lie, to break it,
to make it real so I could fight it.
But it was already too deep,
rooted in the marrow of us.
The lie lived in the pauses,
in the breaks in your sentences,
in the hesitations that hung
like a noose around my neck.
It was a phantom, unseen but felt,
a dark cloud hovering
over every word we spoke,
every kiss that lost its warmth.
I tried to find us again,
in the spaces where we used to fit,
but all I found were fragments,
pieces that no longer made sense.
Your touch was different,
fingers cold, distant,
as if afraid of what we’d become.
I felt the lie in every unreturned glance,
in the way your laughter felt forced,
too brittle to be real.
The bed felt colder,
the sheets heavy with secrets,
your side a void I couldn’t fill.
You were there, but not really,
a ghost wearing your skin,
a stranger I thought I knew.
The irony, it stings—
that I still loved you,
even as you unraveled us,
thread by thread, lie by lie.
I clung to memories,
to moments that felt pure,
but they crumbled like old photographs,
fading, yellowed by time and deceit.
I searched for the truth in your eyes,
but all I found was distance,
a cold sea between us
that I couldn’t swim.
I replayed it over,
the moments that didn’t add up,
the nights you came home late,
the whispers that weren’t meant for me.
I saw the lie in every excuse,
in every half-hearted apology
that left my heart hollow.
I felt it wrap around my chest,
tightening with each breath,
squeezing until I could no longer pretend
that we were anything but broken.
You dressed the lie in kindness,
in sweet words and soft touches,
but I felt the sting beneath the surface,
a venom that seeped slowly,
unseen, but deadly.
I wondered if you knew—
if you felt the weight of it too,
or if the lie had become
a part of you,
a comfortable cloak you wore without shame.
I screamed in silence,
a voice unheard, a heart unheard.
I waited for you to see me,
to see the hurt behind my eyes,
but you looked away,
lost in a world I couldn’t reach.
The lie kept us apart,
a wall I couldn’t tear down,
a prison built from every untruth.
Now, I’m left with the pieces,
the jagged remnants of what we were.
The lie sits heavy,
a weight I carry,
a scar that won’t fade.
It broke me in ways I didn’t know I could break,
left me gasping in the dark,
reaching for something that was never there.
I gather the shards,
knowing some wounds never heal,
and some lies never die.
But I’ll rise from this,
scarred but stronger,
learning to live with the truth
that the lie that broke me
taught me to never bend to false love again.
