The Cost of The Truth
Am I the architect of this?
Or did you build this room around me?
You made the bed, and now I’m pinned to it—
Lying on a old memory foam mattress stuffed with paranoia,
Under a blanket that’s grown heavy with empty and broken promises.
I’m sleeping on a pillow that feels like a held breath.
Constant tightening in my chest.
They tell me I’m imagining the cracks in the ceiling,
Its not as bad as i think it is.
Though, they might actually believe that.
I’m still standing at the edge, looking down,
Wondering why your words feel like paper shields.
It’s been "two too many times"
And now, doubt is just the temperature of the room.
We are circling each other.
I see something that looks like a betrayal,
But you call it something else.
I could ask you. I could demand the truth.
But I stay quiet to keep the peace,
Because I know your face when you’re hiding:
You’d look me in the eye and give me the lie you think I need.
So I tried build my own boundaries—not to keep you out,
But to keep myself from knowing,
But its eating at me inside
And its getting harder and harder to keep it from showing.
Because if I ask, and this time you don't flinch,
If this time you actually tell me the truth—
Then I have to act on the boundaries i set with you.
And acting means losing you.
I’ve realized I’d rather accept a lie
And keep you by my side,
Than have the truth destroy the "us" I’m clinging to.
But the truth is a rot inside the floorboards.
If you don’t destroy me, the suspicion will,
I’ve forgotten the weight of trust.
You say I’m hard to talk to.
Maybe I’m just tired of watching the mechanics of your lying while you call it love.
I’d rather you be honest and watch me burn for a minute,
Than watch you justify a lie because I "trapped" you.
I just want to put this to bed.
I want to rest my head on your chest and hear a heart that isn't hiding.
I don't want to be a detective in my own home,
Scrolling through a glowing screen at 2:00 AM.
I want to be loved,
Not "tolerated" like a chore you’ve grown used to.
Is the end inevitable?
Or am I just playing pretend in a house that’s already burned down?
B