And in response to her question
You look at me
Expectantly
For clarification, justification
In front of the eyes of all these people
Crowding round like a court room
I shake my head,
Dismissing all doubt of you
But we both you lied.
She sits there, gaping
People now stare at her
Asking her why she started all this.
“Attention seeker.”
“Just jealous.”
Words thrown about
Each one a knife in her back
You savour your victory
But we both know you lied.
You did it before
When I asked you
“What did you do? Tell me the truth.”
And with scheming doe eyes
You replied
You didn’t. How could I think that?
Do I trust him? Do I trust her? Do I trust you?
We both knew I’d say “okay,”
But we both know you lied.
The problem is
I know you and
The problem is
You know me.
You’ve done this countless times
I’m guilty of allowing it.
You’ve given me my own malignancy
It’s just a different sin
But we both know you lied.
We have an armoury against the other
Of stolen goods, glances, hearts
But we know we’ll never use them
It’s always been this way
But I don’t think anyone has ever realised
The underlying hate.
It’s always us. It’s always down to us.
I might not regret it yet
But we both know you lied.
Since the days of teddies and dolls
We’ve been this way
Holding each other’s hand
Telling the teacher
“It wasn’t us.”
And we both know
We’ll never be enemies
Because we’re barely friends
And we both know you’ll lie again.
by Kimberly Jamison