Blinking I watched as small watermarks formed smearing the ink. There’s always a sting in the talewoven by his lies. Today is no different. I don’t need nor want to see them written on a piece of white paper, no matter how pretty the script. Not after he’s carved the lies in my broken heart with a tongue that cuts sharper than any knife. As the saying goes, Karma’s a bitch. Well so am I. In time, I’ll heal, butI will not forget. In time, he will wish I had.

by Jean M Cogdell written for 

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