By Christopher Lake
Date: 17 March 2001
Finding Out
Finding out
it was all a lie--
our life,
all the words--
hurt more
than I ever
want anything
to hurt
again.
Not one
of the many
little deaths--
but a big one.
I sat on the patio
and smoked
all my cigarettes
before coming in
and facing
the emptiness
fully.
The next morning
we've apologized
but it's never
as simple as that.
The words hang
in the air here
like stale
cigarette smoke.
All I ever wanted
was the truth--
the truth about us
which probably
lies
somewhere
between two
impossible
extremes.
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