Lie to me

Foolishness....it is more than just a word as the fog of inebriation allows me a bizarre sense of insight. Now bear with me - I'm not your average fool in a pub somewhere off the coast of Dublin, drowning my sorrows with alcohol and 20/20 hindsight. No, I'm merely intelligent enough to realize that feeble emotions will almost always overrule logic in my desires. These thoughts come through tenfold when my inhibitions have been washed away with rye.

But hold it right there - I'm not drunk.. I'm only irrational because logic and emotion mix like oil and water when I try to remember what amazing thoughts I had last night when under the influence. What I am is hurt, bitter, and wishing for something I can never have. And what that is right now makes little sense....

I want you to lie to me.

I kid you not. I want you to lie to me. Lie to me by telling me that your words, your intangible daggers of desolation were nothing but a ruse. A much overused phrase holds much truth, and is aptly worded: "The truth hurts." That is why I want to see that sensual curve of your lips, those lips I have tasted so many times, as they wrap themselves around the tainted words I so desperately crave.

The beauty of what we had is frail and fickle, subject not to the eye of the beholder but only time. Its death was not unexpected, and yet that provides naught but a quantum of solace. It is dead in the water now.

But for me, that death is not an absolute. I want you to drown me in that murky water. I will shut my eyes and accept the fate of what once was. Let me have my fantasy, and the rest no longer matters. It's tragically beautiful.

But alas............a fantasy can only last so long. When I lay in what used to be our bed, I see through the veil that adorns your face in my mind - and I see the face of my blushing corpse bride. The lie was eloquent and perversely satisfying. Irony shines through: only an untruth could be so enjoyable. Now kiss me, my darling. Dissolve.