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A Lie

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He texts me sometimes.

Usually it is for his benefit,

Sometimes for mine.

It all starts with,

“What you doing tonight?”

I try to be evasive.

I fail.

He talks to me,

Like how I want my man to.

We laugh.

We discuss.

We fuck.

But we never say,

“Would you be mine?”

He is my dream man.

He is who I may have fallen for.

But he will never commit.

He doesn’t know how.

He never will.

He will come again and again.

He won’t like me with another man.

Yet,

He feels jealous,

Territorial, primal.

I know better.

I should.

But I,

Lie to myself.

I lie,

Thinking,

What if?

That, if, never comes.

Neither will he.

I should end this.

I know I should.

But I won’t.

I don’t think.

I fuck.

I will not be his woman.

His bride.

His honour.

He will leave me.

I know he will.

And I will only have,

Myself to blame.

Noone else.

I will bleed tears.

And die,

Of a Lie.

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