The words spilled out of my lips, like an unchained mystery.
Flowing endlessly like a river, not stopping or starting.
I only spoke the truth, I spoke my truth.
I am sorry If my truth was in the vain of you.
You were always the one whom I went to for support.
I know you will always be there.
I cannot hold you accountable for my decisions,
but you made me believe some things that I’ve grown to realize
are not true.
Like a run on sentence, a story without an end, I told my piece.
I said how I felt, and they looked at me and really listened.
I am sorry for a betrayal I did not realize would manifest itself into this reality but in some ways, you have made me carry your burden. Ink a promise on my skin, I am not sure I can abide by.
I feel like I am an imposter in my own skin.
Preaching the good word as if I have really done it all myself.
I am told I am good, and I do not believe I am being spoken to.
But, I need someone’s support too, someone I can run to.
There are things you have taken from me, that I need to rebuild myself. Things I’ve had to figure out myself.
You have no idea about the things that I have done for you.
Yet I still spoke in the vain of you.