Counterfeit

It’s when the smile solaces your ails,

when in truth, it curves for your laments and your wails


It’s when the sight regales your spirit,

when in reality, it thirsts for a portion of your guilt


It’s when the words play finely to your ears,

when actually, they long to see the rushing of your tears


It’s when the touch carresses the skin,

when indeed, it digs your actuality and scratches it keen


It’s when the company assures you of tomorrow and permanence,

when in actuality, it shuts out every chance of your subsistence


It’s when the very being partakes in your breath’s reel,

when truly, it attempts to shoot an arrow at your heel


It’s when I do,

when I really don’t.




Because I know trickery



inside out.