fabricated tells

A Writer's Soul

The way the words spill out of your mouth, so naturally,
As bitter as they are sweet,
I clung to them like an addict hooked on that last fix,
Lonely and vulnerable—looking for justification under false pretenses,
We were two liars trying to convince each other of the same truth.
Down, down and down we fall,
Tumbling into the other’s deceptions as we go,
I should have stopped this when I saw your tell,
The fabricated tells that made the relationship an easy downfall.
Should I have known when you stopped smiling when I entered the room?
Or was it the way your hands would squeeze a little tighter around my throat when you
whispered those things to me in the dark.
Maybe it was when your eyes lost the spark that made me laugh,
The way your smirk stretches across your face at snide backhands you’d make,
Or maybe…

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