I find myself surrounded by lies, filled to the brim with deceit. I am made of smoke and mirrors. I am a fabrication of the twisted truths. I dug a hole and tossed my heart in along with the little girl I used to call me. I plied up the dirt, layering the lies. Then I smoothed out the ground above. I smoothed it out until it appears that nothing was ever amiss. Until no one knew where that little girl was buried. Then I carried on lying until everyone forgot that little girl existed at all. But just becomes she's been forgotten doesn't mean she isn't still there. Because now that little girl finds herself in a coffin of her own making. The four walls which were built with the lies she let trip from her tongue, and that girl is running out of air. She is suffocating. She is drowning, she is drowning in deceit. I am drowning in deceit. So I will drown. I will not try to swim. I will let the weight of my lies drag me down. I will let this water fil my lungs and claim the oxygen left in them. And when it claims the air I have left I will let it claim the part of me that cares. I will let it steal the only part of my soul left and render me heartless. Because the only way to survive is to already be dead.
YOU ARE READING
For The Dead Or The Dying
Poetryjust some writing and thoughts. late at night so I can let it all out. sometimes I'm scared ill forget things and it will be as if they never were. it it be that ill forget a moment where I find myslef at complete ease. or a memory that I like to cl...
