I No Longer Know You

And then he kissed me.

One would say that it was

a sip of hot cocoa on the

coldest day in December.

Or maybe the aroma of Grandma’s peach

cobbler, fresh out of the oven.

Despite how warm it felt or

how its embrace melted cold-hearted worries,

it tasted like venom.

Faux passion and ill intentions.

Why would he place his lips on mine if

he's fixin' 'em to lie after?

I usually crave a taste of the

Shea Butter lip balm.

Minty fresh winter breath

and a caramel-vanilla scent.

The secret to happiness was within

him. What happened?

The same air that once carried the truth

now drags nothing but lies—

I dare him to say otherwise!

I dare him to say anything;

say nothing.

That kiss was all the lie I could handle.