Posted: April 17, 2015 in Poetry
Tags: ,

She knows that it’s come to a certain real point where ignoring the cold hard facts, even if for her own peace of mind, would be blatantly outrageous. Stupid even.
Concise truths that glare at her dejected frame, no doubt excited at the torment they leave in their wake-
The torment does not show. She won’t dare let it show-not if it would make her the subject of endless taunts, irrational questions or casually introduce a feeling of unbelonging.
And so armed with a charmingly fake smile, an uncaring attitude and a sharp impressive wit to go with her recently acquired unkind demeanor, she successfully covers up her charred insides.
But there’s the abrupt problem of precise truths- a problem that refuses to go away, despite her insistent will to push it behind somewhere in her jumbled up mind.
It just won’t fade.
It’s becoming increasingly hard to hide behind her smile and cold demeanor.
The facts are too corroborative to elicit a smile, even a fake smile, on her devastated face,
She knows there won’t be any more hiding,
No more making up excuses for him,
This was real. This was happening.
The facts wouldn’t lie.
And so, she reluctantly put two and two together willing her answer to be wrong, if only to spare her shattering heart,
But the gods of putting two and two together were not on her side,
The facts were correct, as always,
Painfully correct as always,
The next appropriate step to make would be to instigate acceptance,
But oh, what an awful word.



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