your lies follow me like shadows

flickering, tumbling, weeping in their faded gloom

and strewn haphazardly across the gallows

from which swings any emotion I might have felt

framed like memories too long

gone away


listening with stifled breath

to a whimper, a cry, a swansong

I know I could have stopped this before

I ever cared to know you

but something inside said it would rather

wait and see

if the promises stayed true while

the lies cut across the skies like locusts in stifling

September heat

I see you cringe under their dreary press

the thickness cramping and boiling around you

a sort of stumbling duress

you can choke on it

inhale it

lost inside a pool of lies so deep that not

even words could bale you into safety from this tangled web of half-truths

and poorly constructed thought

an anathema

you are a curse that tramples on my daydreams

while on the outside that secret smile widens for the camera

disappearing in private

away from me

like something you should hide

a surreptitious derision only I can see because

you wear your faces the same way a harlequin wears

his masks

everyone thinks your perfection is more than skin deep

though you and I know better

stricken and


by the depth of emotion fettered by our actions

and our words that mean nothing

spitefully trite yet

surprisingly innocent and pure amongst a garden of syllables

strung about like fairy lights and dreams

I think that I can catch you

your imagined candor snarling on its

rough edges and the hatred it begets

trapping you

like a butterfly on a sticky dew-wet strand

of course Iím wrong

neither one of us is surprised when instead of fleeing

instead of fighting to breathe from beneath the lilies

I find myself sinking

deeper in

your deadly sirenís song



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