i won’t lie

(even when it would get me what i want)

i don’t lie.
not because it makes me good.
not because i crave being believed.
not even because it keeps me safe.

i don’t lie
because i don’t have the energy
to keep track of who i’d have to be
to make you stay.

i’ve lived through hell in slow motion—
and you want me to act on top of that?

no.

i already know what you think.
i’m a liar.
as a child.
as a partner.
as a woman.

they said maybe i misread it.
maybe i made it up.
maybe i liked the attention.

but really—
i’ve been tortured in plain sight.
my body used.
my story erased.
my grief ignored—
then mocked.
and still—
i told the truth.

you think i kept the screenshots,
the black eyes,
the bruises,
the ultrasound,
the hospital paperwork,
the dates,
the timelines,
the badge numbers—

because i needed a story?

you think carrying this makes me feel powerful?

no.

i carry it because it’s real.
and if i let it go,
i disappear with it.

and you—
you need to understand something.

i never lied to keep you.
not once.
not when i said i was hurting.
not when i said i still loved you.
not when i told you the worst parts
and waited to see if you’d run.

and look—
you’re not here, are you?

so if lying was the plan—
it clearly didn’t work.

and thank god for that.

i only want love that is real.
not manipulation.
not omission.
not fear-drenched loyalty.
truth.

if that’s not enough to hold you,
then don’t touch me.

i don’t lie
because it doesn’t serve me.

manipulation might get you to stay—
but it won’t make you love me.
and i’d rather be left
than held but never truly loved.

i wanted you to stay
because you saw all of it
and chose me anyway.

but you didn’t.
and that matters.

i accept it.

because no—

i don’t want love built on what we don’t say.
i don’t want to be kept
because i made myself easier to swallow.

so no—
i don’t lie.

not for attention.
not for control.
not to get you back.
not to make you stay.
not to make you love me.

never to make you love me.

i was there.
it happened.
it almost killed me.

but it’s true.

(and if you don’t love me in the truth—
then it was never love at all.)