by Lauren Marie

i came to this year, this month

this day, with you taking up the whole

of my heart, i have watched

the sun rise through the window

of my bedroom to steal itself

into the sheets where we made

what i thought was love,

sneaking jealous shafts that came

to wake me from the dream of

what we were and i suppose that

in the grand illusion of your arms

you never saw the light in my eyes

a glow now all but gone

retreated from transparent panes

and i am cold in this reflection

seeing myself for the first time

with a clarity your elaborate deception

kept in the dark

they say that all writers are liars

but the truth is

we only write the lies we're told

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