You used to say, "On a good day, I only break his heart once." That was before you learned how to lie. Back when you used to try to tell the truth because you and him never had the kind of relationship that allowed for secrets. But now somehow a lie fits better. Fits like a letter slipped through the slot of a locker. Because the doctor told you if there was anything more they could do, they would do it. He's not coming back. And in the moment you knew it, you learned how to lie. Because there are times when the cost of truth is so high, we indebt our own hearts to heartbreak. We make love into a currency that can't be cashed in, because there has never been a bank that will give out a loan based on the collateral of hope. They'll lend anyone just enough rope to hang their family's future on a dream, then scheme someway to foreclose. And everybody knows they've got billions of dollars, but no dads in their vault. So you learned how to lie. Because it's not his fault that he can't remember, that your mom, his wife, had a life that ended two years ago. So you forged a passport into his heart, trespassing into his past and into the name into the last one to live there. Because healthcare can't cover the misplaced memories of families, whose secrets spill out jewels through the oversized holes in pants pockets that someone in the family has to wear. And you tell me that every stitch is as valuable as every tear. But pull a single string and the whole thing will unravel. So ...
Tags: Shane, Koyczan, Poetry, Poem, Slam, Good, Day, inkkissedpaper
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