The Truth About Our Love

People have known our love–
it was strong, and still, it broke.
People thought it was you, all you.
People believed I was the unblemished saint,
and you are the selfish sinner.

People have known our love–
it was fought for, and it was lost.
People have known our love–
how it was sweet, and how it has
turned both of us bitter–you and me.
People have known our love,
and what they do not now is
the truth about it.

People have known about our love–
That you were the culprit,
And I was the willing victim.
And this is my confession.

The truth about our love
was it was not you, not all you.
Most of it was me: I was a liar–
I kept things in the darkness,
and forced them to stay there despite
your best efforts to uncover me from
the depths of my deceit.

The truth about our love
was I was a fool: I have always believed
that I could live in my shadows
and bask in the light of your loving-kindness.
I made myself believe that I deserve you,
every part of you–and I don’t.

The truth about our love
was you were the better half:
you understood me, my shortcomings,
my relapses, my secrets, my lies–
You always welcomed me back after
every time I left you in the dark.

The truth about our love
was that you kept the fire burning
while I bask in its heat as the wind
of my treachery blew to put it out.
You kept the light blazing as I dim
the flickers of our brighter future.

The truth about our love
was you were faithful and more than loving,
and I was a fool: I gave into a different fire.
My curiosity got the better of me;
I messed up; I messed around.
I was the precursor of your infidelity.

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