poem
Two Truths, Four Walls
(a memoir wearing a mask)
When four a.m. came, I went outside and counted each star.
I know we’d find the end of the road—I just didn’t know it was so far.
The night sky beyond the stars looked like a thick splotch of tar,
A skyline road leading me back to the door where we stumbled upon the start.
Memories feel less like the past, more like wounds trying to become scars.
How many chapters must be written before you can title it a memoir?
The truth is still running away, I keep chasing it because it never leaves my radar
Flashback to the argument in a bar—it left me stuck in the passenger seat of your car.
About a year before we met, I dreamed of being guarded by a jaguar.
It sat by my side—my only company beneath a skyline so dark.
Somewhere along the path, I missed the ‘X’ that was meant to mark.
How many years did it take to learn your bite was worse than your bark?
Sitting in a parked car, staring at a four-story walk-up.
When I finally knocked, you opened the door and said, “What’s up?”
Red flags draped on stark white walls distracted me from
careless words tossed around about the Rugby World Cup.
Enter Player Three—an unexpected meeting of two lifeless eyes.
“Have we met before?” The question lingers in the air, then dies.
Calculating my safety in a room with two strange men and I—
the girl you met online, hoping not to end up a news headline.
Time quickly passed us by—soon enough, we found the end of the night,
A black sky slowly turning to orange and purple, unseen from inside.
Your “friend” stirring chaos, destruction I couldn’t quite decide,
Alone in a room, I told you, these truths can’t really coincide:
Friend or foe? Questions that still linger at the back of your mind.
Tracing our steps to the moment we both fell in the trap,
The truth cut through the air, more a hook than a jab.
Angry at the attention he couldn’t claim or grab,
You turned into a mad scientist, made my soul into your lab.
I can’t tell you every detail of that night, but I left it sad,
Sitting shotgun in a white Jetta, some creep reaching for my hand.
I remember wondering if this had always been the plan—
Sometimes even the truth twists itself - too hard to understand.
Weeks flew by—leaves now spinning wild in the sky,
Your name flashing on my screen; I pause, scowl, and ask, “Why?”
It took months to realize you’d been wearing a disguise,
Not knowing if this would enrich me—or lead to my demise.
A year and a half, and most days, you really did try.
The moments when things went wrong, I could count on one hand, no lie.
An invisible thread between us, pinky to pinky, held our tie,
But still, we avoided the final page in the chapter: the final goodbye.
When it was bad, it felt like waiting for my house to fly—
A tornado spinning, cinematic scenes stuck in my mind’s eye.
You’d think, with time, the truth would be easier to find,
But no one can say I didn’t give it my all. I continued to try.
Two years have now passed me by - watching life pass like I was a wall fly
I’m happier now that I ever was before - most nights ending without sad sighs
No longer searching for the answers inside of a trash bag full of half truths and lies
and most of the time, I can say I’ve forgotten your voice or that look in your eyes
With scar tissues and a sprinkle of fading pain - I no longer wake up feeling disdain
No one calling a hundred times for attention - no more sick and twisted games
You may have stayed the same, but I chose to grow - I chose to continue to change
The way it all worked out is nice if not a little bit deranged - I always was kind of strange
Haunted by cold nights in your garage - you reading my words while it rains
or laughing for hours about secret moments - information we chose to exchange
Stepping off of your rollercoaster - I was left with motion sickness and feeling insane
Two truths, four white walls, and a lot of reasons for both of us to feel shame
Most of the time I wish I could change my decision - I wish, that day, I never came
I know we’d find the end of the road—I just didn’t know it was so far.
The night sky beyond the stars looked like a thick splotch of tar,
A skyline road leading me back to the door where we stumbled upon the start.
Memories feel less like the past, more like wounds trying to become scars.
How many chapters must be written before you can title it a memoir?
The truth is still running away, I keep chasing it because it never leaves my radar
Flashback to the argument in a bar—it left me stuck in the passenger seat of your car.
About a year before we met, I dreamed of being guarded by a jaguar.
It sat by my side—my only company beneath a skyline so dark.
Somewhere along the path, I missed the ‘X’ that was meant to mark.
How many years did it take to learn your bite was worse than your bark?
Sitting in a parked car, staring at a four-story walk-up.
When I finally knocked, you opened the door and said, “What’s up?”
Red flags draped on stark white walls distracted me from
careless words tossed around about the Rugby World Cup.
Enter Player Three—an unexpected meeting of two lifeless eyes.
“Have we met before?” The question lingers in the air, then dies.
Calculating my safety in a room with two strange men and I—
the girl you met online, hoping not to end up a news headline.
Time quickly passed us by—soon enough, we found the end of the night,
A black sky slowly turning to orange and purple, unseen from inside.
Your “friend” stirring chaos, destruction I couldn’t quite decide,
Alone in a room, I told you, these truths can’t really coincide:
Friend or foe? Questions that still linger at the back of your mind.
Tracing our steps to the moment we both fell in the trap,
The truth cut through the air, more a hook than a jab.
Angry at the attention he couldn’t claim or grab,
You turned into a mad scientist, made my soul into your lab.
I can’t tell you every detail of that night, but I left it sad,
Sitting shotgun in a white Jetta, some creep reaching for my hand.
I remember wondering if this had always been the plan—
Sometimes even the truth twists itself - too hard to understand.
Weeks flew by—leaves now spinning wild in the sky,
Your name flashing on my screen; I pause, scowl, and ask, “Why?”
It took months to realize you’d been wearing a disguise,
Not knowing if this would enrich me—or lead to my demise.
A year and a half, and most days, you really did try.
The moments when things went wrong, I could count on one hand, no lie.
An invisible thread between us, pinky to pinky, held our tie,
But still, we avoided the final page in the chapter: the final goodbye.
When it was bad, it felt like waiting for my house to fly—
A tornado spinning, cinematic scenes stuck in my mind’s eye.
You’d think, with time, the truth would be easier to find,
But no one can say I didn’t give it my all. I continued to try.
Two years have now passed me by - watching life pass like I was a wall fly
I’m happier now that I ever was before - most nights ending without sad sighs
No longer searching for the answers inside of a trash bag full of half truths and lies
and most of the time, I can say I’ve forgotten your voice or that look in your eyes
With scar tissues and a sprinkle of fading pain - I no longer wake up feeling disdain
No one calling a hundred times for attention - no more sick and twisted games
You may have stayed the same, but I chose to grow - I chose to continue to change
The way it all worked out is nice if not a little bit deranged - I always was kind of strange
Haunted by cold nights in your garage - you reading my words while it rains
or laughing for hours about secret moments - information we chose to exchange
Stepping off of your rollercoaster - I was left with motion sickness and feeling insane
Two truths, four white walls, and a lot of reasons for both of us to feel shame
Most of the time I wish I could change my decision - I wish, that day, I never came