I have always tried to be honest with you, when you asked the questions, I answered them…honestly even when that honesty hurt you.  You were MY truth…one of the few people I thought would never lie to me.  You lied to her…why wouldn’t you lie to me?  I’m so late.  MY truth. My alter ego.  BL we been through what felt like hell and back.  The beginning spiral of my PTSD, The Other turning on you and upending your career.  We been through love and heartache.  Calling it real when it was deep and painful.  You and I.  Poetic ghetto superheroes.  Writing and loving through the pain, with OUR version of the truth.

I feel like I have loved you in some form all of my life. Before I even knew you even.  Yeah it’s corny, it’s MY truth.  I am permanently a part of you and you to me.

The lie stung me to my core.  I understand it, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.  MY truth.

I miss you, but I feel like if I keep my distance you will find what I am unable to provide.  There are days I want to write you a poem…Rose are red…violets are blue…you are MY truth…no more rhymes or reasons.

I pray for your healing.  I pray for your comfort and contentment.  I pray that you never leave me.  MY truth.

Whatever you are working on and working through it is your’s to have and to hold.  I am now a visitor in your world and I will eventually settle that in my spirit.

I wish you all that you want and need for your heart to be full.  Whatever that may be.

With all my flaws and shortcomings iThought truth and love were enough to forever bind us.

If you need to go I will make peace with that…because today I feel… iThought wrong.



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