THE LIES WE CHOSE TO TELL EACH OTHER

We painted our facades to fit the seasons –
from pink and red to fading orange, to black and blue to gray.
I screamed feelings you countered with words,
you dropped promises like the stones you walked over.
I force-fed questions back into my mouth.

Each night, we filled the white noise with one-word answers,
drowning televisions                 but quiet dinners,
the voids so gaping I wanted to crawl into them
and go into outer space.

When I’m alone, the room swims with the memory of us in it,
how we breathed and danced in the rooms
instead of slam and lurch like heavy weights after work.

We left like slabs of rock too stubborn and cold
to acknowledge how we’ve been standing rigid for a thousand years, marked by our mistakes,
in front of our lawyers,
in front of our friends.

I’m sitting in an empty house, populated by cardboard boxes and
an audience of one. An ocean of replayed conversations drowns me,
but the silence speaks louder than
the slow transition of our motions growing
farther
and farther apart.

When we signed the papers, I looked past your eyes and shoulders and saw a reflection I didn’t recognize.

My happier prior self flits from corner to corner, laughing, while I pick up the pieces you purposely crushed on the ground.

This poem is an update from this and is included in The Sophomore Year Experience poetry compilation.

Advertisements

About Amy

Amy is a freelance writer and artist based in LA. Her hobbies include romanticizing her world, having too many moody thoughts, and wandering through neighborhoods she's never been in.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to THE LIES WE CHOSE TO TELL EACH OTHER

  1. Pingback: THE LIES WE CHOOSE TO TELL EACH OTHER | Diverse City, Scattered Thoughts

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s