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