being honest

So, I don't usually want to add descriptions, but I wrote this July last year. Not some of my favourite work, but relevant and decent enough for me to want to put out.

I used to try and blame everything on you.

Everything you had ever done,

I was convinced made me like this.

The truth is,

I was wrong.

I haven’t stopped,

Blaming you, I mean,

But I’ve realised

That I make myself,

Not you.

I want the answers

To all the questions I have.

But if we’re being honest,

You’re going to lie.

For years I used you as my excuse.

For years I played the pity card.

For years I wondered if you cared at all,

But you blocked me out.

So, if we’re being honest,

You lied.

Oh, the joys of being the favourite,

But not being loved at all.

The joys of the constant reminder,

My head is still slamming against that wall.

I wonder,

If after all these years,

I can finally get an explanation.

But if we’re being honest,

My hope is a lie.