Betrayal Wears the Face of Love

You wore love like a mask,

and I—

I was foolish enough to believe

it was your face.

Every promise you whispered

was honey laced with venom,

sweet until it burned my tongue,

poison until it reached my veins.

I gave you my trust,

a fragile glass heart,

and you shattered it

with hands that pretended to hold.

The nights we shared

are now graveyards of silence,

every memory a ghost

that mocks me with your smile.

Betrayal is not a knife in the back—

it is a kiss on the lips

while your other hand

hides the blade.

And I bleed,

not because you left,

but because you stayed long enough

to convince me

you never would.