Numb
I tried to write a poem.
About what you did.
About how you made me feel.
About how I feel now.
But poems are made of words.
You don’t like my words.
You don’t like how I feel.
I don’t know how I feel.
I told you everything.
But it was all a lie.
Yet you thought it was real.
Because words have meaning.
It’s easy to find words to lie.
Lies can take shape. And form. And rhyme.
Lies make sense.
The truth never does.
That’s why you lied to her.
That’s why it was easy.
I can’t write a poem.
About what you did.
About how you made me feel.
About how I feel now.
Because I don’t feel anything now.
Because I have no words.
For what you did.
You want me to talk to you.
But truth has no words.
I have nothing left to say.
(2015)
