Untitled Poem #5

It's a bit crazy, you and me
Two good liars, one strange story
We weave lies and birthed fantasy
We weave lies, you and me

It's also a bit funny, our strange story
For beyond the lies, we're as real as can be
You are still you, and I am still me
You are still you, this is our story

But it's scares me, this weaved fantasy
What if I believe this make-believe story
And down the dumps, goes poor little me
And down the dumps, goes the fantasy

But maybe I'd let it be, for you and for me
The two good liars, sprinkling dusts of a fairy
Hoping one day, lies become reality
Hoping one day, for you and for me

(N30.18)​

______________________
Unrelated Note:

It feels strange. A few days had passed after a certain incident and yet every time I see that name, I still feel the lingering frustration. Is it my fault for thinking we're friends? Maybe it is. I went ahead and set my heart up for a heartbreak the moment I started caring. Maybe I should have known better.

But deep inside me, I still believe caring is not bad. Maybe it's caring for the wrong people that is bad. But how am I supposed to know that caring for a certain person is bad? I never would have even thought we're not friends until I was told so. I trust too much, too soon, I guess.

But that's not exactly right, too. People become friends even with less amount of interaction that we had. Even with less similarities that we had. Even with more scathing banter that we had. Is this just a case of different people and different circumstances? But it's always like that, right? Every relationship is a case to case basis. Every connection is unique. Then, what made ours a mirage? Was it me? Was it that person? Was it the two of us?

I may have asked these questions, but at the end of the day, I'll probably just blame myself. I'm toxic like that haha. I'll blame myself for believing and having faith in humanity. And then, I'll spiral further down into the cold empty hole I've been digging all my life. The one created because I've experienced far too many cases of being disappointed with the world, being disappointed with people. I kept telling myself, "It's not your fault." Yet somehow, somewhere along the way, I stopped believing those words and they become nothing more than dirty lies I need to wash away from my hands.

It feels strange. I feel strange. Maybe I should just ignore that person and hope to God it fucking works better than acting mature about this.

(N30.18)