Mountebank
You made me less.
Sleepless.
And now I’m falling asleep at the table.
Theology swims,
Trapped in my teacup.
You made me weak.
Weak as the colour pink,
And still,
I shrink.
You lied.
The cat was not blue,
The things you said were not true.
But I tried.
You said you could save me. Lord,
You were just somebody
To talk to
When I was bored.
Copyright © Annabelle Bentley | Year Posted 2024
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