Truth

I sat there—so naïve and way too trusting.

Searching his eyes for one shred of

The cruel intentions easily hid.

There’s one familiar bitter taste;

I’ve known this pain before.

I clenched my fists tighter, then released.

It wouldn’t subside.

A thousand little pinpricks,

For just one piece.

Or would you call it that?

Maybe one shard of glass

That stabbed my heart—

Straight through, slicing like butter.

But that doesn't mean

I'm letting go and giving him up…

I won’t, never—not at all

Because then

Where would I be?

A quite easily lost me?

He is half of me.