A poem for you

It's not very upbeat and was written about a collection of people I used to associate with who told lies. I submitted it a few years ago so it needs tweaking. (I promise a more lively post tomorrow.)

Falsifier

On this bitter black night I think of you

asleep in your bed of anguish and lies.

Your lack of conscience displeases me, and to my surprise

my anger holds me there in the moment, sticking my elbows to the windowpane and forcing me to remain there as if with cruel glue.

My head throbs with memories of your inflicted pain and the way you’d just smile to soothe me, and later on you’d do it again.

I still have the scars, in mind and skin

and I know that in this game, I’m never allowed to win.

I try to wrench myself free from the pane and pain, but it seems

that your overpowering force knows no bounds.

I spit out of the window, my face burning with tears and arms chafing the wooden frame. All I can taste are your falsehoods and cheats.

I spit again

and remembering the way my throat swelled and stung from battling and bickering.

I try to escape it even now. I open my mouth but my screams and pleas

still fall upon your ignorant ears. I stumble away from the window and gasp for breath. Still trapped in your maze of barbed wire.

 You are nothing but a falsifier.