dear stranger,

you appeared to me in a haze last night
as I spent my last few conscious moments thinking about you

you pleaded for forgiveness and said “sorry”, as if that one word
can write off every single crime you have committed.

you are a thief for stealing my heart
and leaving behind worthless lies in the empty cavern of my chest,
where I kindled them,
until they grew into a fire I used to burn away the truth the smoke prevented me from seeing.

you are a trespasser for entering the rings of promises you made
and smudging every last letter until they can’t be seen as nothing else
but shattered, broken words.

you are a deceiver: the kind of liar that overuses the word “love” just as much as the word “hate”
to the point where I grew dizzy trying to separate the two twin meanings,
as if there is a difference.

last of all, you are an arsonist,
for you burned the knot that held us together as easily as one might light
a candle’s crooked wick.

I may have flaws too, but at least they don’t hurt me.

sincerely,

another stranger