POISON

I don't know at which point I began to feel like this. I don't know if you ever felt the same. And I don't know if it ever mattered to you, the way I felt.

But today I wonder if it was worth it. All the angst, the tension, the pain. Today I wonder if indeed it was love, or something more.

Could it be...? Could it be that it was, not love, but a yearning to believe it was so? Maybe I will never know.

What I know is that I looked up to you, like I seldom did others. With you, I was always me; brave and foolish. For you, I would have done anything. So, how could you mislead me such? How could you lie so shamelessly? How many times did I not ask for the truth? Hah! And every time, a different excuse. Were you ever true?

And I want to ask, what did you get from this? I want to know, have you ever been in love?

Perhaps, it doesn't matter anymore. Perhaps, all that's left is this rancor. This ill feeling... this poison...

... Then again, surely, this pain is temporary. Without a doubt, one day, I'll be able to say, "this love is no more."

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