someone once said

every woman is self trained in the art
of making it known all the details
concerning a recently broken heart.
if only i could tell you the sweet tale of mine,
but my former lover played the role of a mime.
in silence, he professed a hope to spare me,
perhaps to keep our hearts from any harm;
but the truth is he lied to us both
and then covered it neatly with charm.
even at the end of all that we were,
he assured of his care, feeling, concern.
but then, mid sentence i heard no voice,
and i began to see the truth of his choice.
this isn’t about our love or our fate,
his motive was a fear he couldn’t abate.
i still see clearly through the blur in my eyes,
the man who i loved, loved me with lies.