Cutting Truth

The words came out in a rush,

sharp, like broken glass

from a smashed window pane.

I watched your face drain

of color, and for a second, a strange

relief washed over me, a dark gain.

It was cruel, yes, to speak so free,

but it was also what I had to see.

The truth, a bitter pill to taste,

a wound that time won't quite erase.

I swallowed it, you swallowed it too,

a silent agreement that it was true.

And now it hangs between us, thin,

that jagged, honest, hateful thing.