Believe Me, I'm lying...

He poured his heart out to me,

Like torrents of rain on a gloomy Friday night in the countryside

I was young and naive, vulnerable and fragile

Cynical, I never was. 

Trust, love, second chances and faith were the food to my soul, 

without those, I was as good as a withered rose.

He poured her heart out to me, he poured it all out.

Naive as I was, useless and too trustful, 

Gullible and fragile, I took his word for it. 

I've hated, I've scorned, I've been angered for his sake. 

I've cursed and I've hurt; I've provoked for his sake. 

I've lied and I've cried each time I blamed myself for his misery. 

I never loved myself enough to think, to believe, to imagine 

That I could be a good and worthy person - oh no. 

Then he poured his heart out while I sat there and listened.

The dark clouds, a symbol of the storm that was fast approaching, 

Were merely some cute fluffy grey clouds to me. 

How was I to know that it was a sign? How was I to know?

As vulnerable as I was, he entrusted me with important information. 

He toasted me with his cries like I was a piece of bread, waiting to be devoured

He even buttered me both ways, and in one bite, I was gone.
Young as I was, I listened to his story. 

'Believe me' I heard him say, and I took it all in like a helpless child. 

But if I had listened more carefully, I would have heard him whisper softly in the shadows of the night, 

'Believe me, I'm  lying...'

20 July 2012