Maturity At Its Best--*

We speak the same flowery language.
Using pretty words to cover the hidden meanings
Which is why I wasn’t surprised when his name
Was shadowed by lovely metaphors but
I read through each line effortlessly
Her heartache never failed;
Like braile feeling the words through my eyes
Finding within the rhymes how deep it really went
And while others view it as another poem,
Another majestic thought and nodding their
Heads at the artistic expressions,
I knew it was nothing more than an underlined confession

Allowing me to peek into stories that he left unrehearsed
And her thirst was quenched by my tears
Embarrassed to even claim I fell in love
He desecrated everything inside of me
Leaving me to clench my jaw in attempt
To hold in what maturity I had left
Ready to call out names and point fingers to blame
Breaking bones with memories lost
Cutting away small pieces of myself
She exposed every detail through
Similes and references
Emerald is way more than just a color

The symbolic phrases and poetic
Hazes she tried to faze me with
Only left me with a slick tongue to razor this

Leaving behind him and his sweet miss
Putting the memories into metaphors like
“I’ll always miss the air he kissed”
Putting the essence of all this into boxes
Capturing reality in fallacy
Seeping in the deathly venom she placed on my name
I heard only the revised versions
But her words put them to shame

And alas!

We.
Have.
Truth.

Proof written on lips that have sinned and sinned again
And though I may not be made of the most religious stitch
I do believe that karma’s a
bitch.
-----------------------------------------
"... consequence is no coincidence"

tianamonique.