They say liars come with pointy teeth and pinocchio noses
Their feral tounges and tears lead people astray
Disant from the pack, you fought this alone
I like to wear the bitter taste of truth on my tounge
I can always taste a sweet waning lie
A sliver of perpetual drinking
Always shines on your teeth
Your ambiguous thinking derails every sense of it all
You seem to tell me you've cracked it
The cure for happiness is in your back pocket
you take a sip of whatever lethal liquid you can hook your lips around
Nursing the bottle
Suckling it as if it is your only form of nourishment in this life
And out of it you grew a healthy bad habit
An erratic disposition
That spurred from the mere idea
That if you lied
You could get your way
You could live under the radar
By Lying and sneaking your habits in coat pockets
People ask you what they are when the find them
And you lie and say
Oh I'm just you know
I'm fine
YOU ARE READING
Decapitated Dandelions
PoetryA collection of slam poems, songs, and musings from over the years!
