Little Lies
Somehow you justify your malevolence,
by gauging its size rather than its quantity.
Though the death of a thousand cuts is no less fatal,
than a bullet through the heart.
You tell yourself those little lies too.
You convince yourself that isn't hurting anyone.
While you destroy the people who should matter most.
You tell yourself that this tiny insignificant lie is necessary,
yet somehow not evil.
This lie spun for her own good.
This lie protects.
You avoid the inevitable agony of confrontation,
by altering reality to suit your own needs.
The truth is that it doesn't serve anyone,
Not even you.
Your little lies bleed her dry,
Your words are paper cuts on her soul.
She exhausts herself with constant investigations,
Every word from your lips turns in her stomach.
She pleads for the relief of the truth.
No longer trusting herself.
Her ears betray as her heart spins what she knows to be true,
into what she needs to believe.
Her once warm and optimistic heart now beats cynical and cold.
Each false truth spewed shoves her further away.
Until even when she reaches out as far as her arms will take her,
you no longer meet in the middle.
She's tired of lying to herself to cover for you.
She lacks the skills to assuage the wounds you inflict.
So she tells you everything is fine while you keep drifting apart.
Through tears she accepts her truth.
She has resigned herself to the telling of her own little lie,
then she tells you she loves you but what she means is goodbye.
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