…my ipseity my own identity

You built your lies carefully, one upon another
like stones in an ancient wall
each one placed precisely to keep me outside
keeping the secrets and lies that you were hiding, safely within
I never even imagined the depths of your betrayal
for I was too busy listening to your beating heart
I foolishly thought that the rooms in your heart
were forever mine to wander, that every door
and every open window, looked out upon the same horizon
that there were no hidden staircases, descending into the darkness
no secret chambers, where another version of you existed
I trusted the foundations and I trusted you
but now I know what a dangerous thing trust can be
when placed in the hands of someone
who has learned how beautifully, that a lie can imitate the truth
of course there were signs, small fractures
appearing in ordinary moments
a hesitation where there should have been certainty
a silence where there should have been words
your eyes constantly shifting away from mine
and I remember thinking, how strange, how very strange
that someone could hold me so closely
but still be standing somewhere else, in their imagination
you knew how to hide your secrets and lies
and there is a particular cruelty in hindsight
it walks me backwards through my memories
carrying a lantern, illuminating everything
I failed to see, how you quietly took everything from me
my ipseity, my own identity
and somewhere beneath all the wreckage
the final secret is still breathing
the one thing that you never understood
that I would have forgiven almost anything
except being made to believe, that the lie was love
©Ann Bagnall