NaPoWriMo #15

The Last Poem (Revised)

“this is the last poem
I will write for you.”
and as the words leave my mouth
I know I am lying, that
when it comes to you, truth
is hard.

I tell myself one thing
I do another.
I could have been a painter,
spreading the colors of you
onto the fibers of the canvas
while you blend in perfectly.

Every flaw you point out
as insufferable and odd have
become my favorites:
your hair, your nose, and the
way your bottom lip quivers
when you try to explain something

I see no wrong in you.
I believe this is why
we will not make it,
why we could not,
and I believe you hate me
for being blind to your
view of you.

I say again, “this is the last poem
I will write for you”
and you smile, tilt your face
to the sky, and pull my hand
to your heart.
You purse your lips together
and utter a revelation,
“that’s a lie and you know it.”

And you’re right.

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