Heather has a Bachelor's Degree in English from Moravian College and has been freelance writing for more than 12 years.
Seven days have gone by since the emotional atom bomb hit
Destroying everything inside and outside the city gates
Surveying the damage to once long standing structures
Wondered why the early warning systems weren't put in place
To catch this train wreck from happening sooner
Head it off at the pass before the wreckage became apparent
Would've cut ties before the rug was annihilated completely
Not just pulled but incinerated into tiny little ashes
Under the false impression that the search for love was done
Turned out that wasn't the case in the slightest
Blinded by the fluorescent light of artificiality wrapped in a charismatic fake
Ignored the glaring signals until it was too late
Believed that my personal version of Mr. Incredible was real
Not just a villain masquerading as a good guy
Pretending to be a kind, pillar of honesty
When he was nothing but the human equivalent of fool's gold
Pretty on the outside; until you scrape off the veneer
Finding nothing but a house of cards on the inside
Lies wrapped in a Ponzi Scheme to beat all frauds
Was about as mature as a kid throwing a tantrum on the playground
Hated being called a liar and a fake; revealed truths that he couldn't handle
Throwing misery paintballs to keep the drama flowing and to build another falsity
Cannot tell the truth if his life depended on it
Impossible to do when your life is filled with nothing but smoke and mirrors
Deception not a strong foundation to build a future on
Surprised the relationship didn't topple over much sooner than it did
Working hard to recover from being the ultimate victim of the near perfect scam
Faking their way into a relationship that had no future
True test of maturity on how to handle a break-up
Throwing childish stones, or not engaging in such tomfoolery
Guess who won the battle and the war?
Not Mr. Phony; that's for sure.
Working on forgetting him and the emotional voodoo placed on my heart
Easier said than done when it came to washing someone out of your hair
At least, the door closed so that he couldn't get back in if he wanted to
Wouldn't be allowed back in anyways
That was over: case closed.
Lorna Lamon on October 11, 2019:
Such a powerful poem and it's true sometimes we see the outside and imagine it's going to be the same inside. Sadly it rarely is and the outside was just a facade.