48

case study in deception

i’m writing this not for you,
but for the ghost i once called my best friend.
i buried her beside all the stories you told us,
every lie she still believes, marked with a dagger that only needs your name to bleed.

you stitched lies into my trust and called it connection.
you drafted characters out of us - the people you pretended to love.
now the plot has unraveled, and i hold the pen.

you mistake silence for weakness.
it’s the sound of your empire burning.
while you perform sincerity for your next believer,
i live in the quiet you can’t corrupt —
the kind that echoes only truth.

you built a hall of mirrors,
worshiped your reflection,
and forgot that even mirrors crack.
i walked out of the glass
and left you surrounded by shards.
i stepped into the sun
and every shadow you cast is a reminder that i was right to walk away.

you choreographed our lives
and pulled the strings with steady hands,
mistaking control for devotion.
now the ropes are there for everyone to see,
and you’re the only one still dancing.
the audience has vanished —
no applause, no encore, just you
performing to the hollow hum of your ego.

keep her if you can.
keep your kingdom of half-truths
and curated empathy.
i don’t envy her part in your illusion —
every role you write ends in ruin
and every witness becomes another ghost.

you seem to have forgotten:
the map to your disguises still lives in my drawer.
forty-eight keys.
i could expose the pattern if i cared to —
but the best punishment is indifference.

here’s what you never understood:
i didn’t lose you.
i deleted you.
i loved the myth, and i grieved it,
but grief dies once truth breathes.

when your dam broke and the lies spilled free,
i watched the flood for what it was — cleansing.
there’s nothing left to salvage.
no final act.
only you, still spinning your story
for anyone naïve enough to listen.
and me—
quiet, unbroken, free.