what hurts the most

deep sigh, not of relief
grief knows no boundaries
truth be told, but never heard
here we are again


them,
lying with ease
caring only about keeping appearances
blaming all the world
every time.


and them,
their scent of dishonesty lingering
amnesia playing the role of scapegoat
no compassion in years
too long.


and me,
accepting it all with delicacy
because I know it will happen again
not knowing when I have had enough
only comfort is knowing that it’s over for now.















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