What if I told you
that only some of these poems
That some were my emotions,
accurate to the last drop
and then some were just as fictional
as the books on your shelf?
Would you feel betrayed,
or would you just be eager to discover more?
I would say that for the both of us,
I would rather have you feel the latter.
I am the one who is betrayed.
I am the one who falls too hard,
cares too much,
for the reality that isn’t really there.
Or do I?