when i lie
the truth grasps for straws
and curls in plumes of dark smoke
all around me
but no one can see it
because even the people
who know me best
would rather believe the lie
YOU ARE READING
i wouldn't call it poetry
Şiirbasically, this is like less than half of my poetry journal. umm... here you go UPDATE: 12/20/17 I've been going through the long process of cleaning up my account so it'll be presentable for the now multiple people at school who want to read my emb...
smoke
when i lie
the truth grasps for straws
and curls in plumes of dark smoke
all around me
but no one can see it
because even the people
who know me best
would rather believe the lie
