There is no truth to my words, none at all. Not even my thoughts can show me how things really are - everything is altered to fit a vision that I never wished to have in the first place. Maybe I'm a mess, maybe I was destined to be this way.
I paint stories with my tongue, telling them until my mouth goes dry. I speak of sparkling shards of glass and head injuries, when I really got out with only a mere bruise on my shoulder. It widens the eyes of others, that's why I go to these extents. It makes me feel alive again, it makes my world seem more beautiful than it really is.
I talk up storms and chew my lips until they pour blood, then I make jokes about the way I'm losing precious blood. People scatter around me; they create a crowd, and I savor the moments in which I am surrounded by them. It fuels my desire for attention, gives me what I need to keep going. My lip drips sweet red; gorgeously bright and reflective upon wandering eyes.
Look at me, make me feel wanted. Do not look away, for I will die if you do. I will make myself bleed again if I have to - I'll do anything to win your attention. Though I cannot speak a drop of truth off my dry tongue, I can offer you the blood from my lips in exchange for your attention. Look into my eyes and let me know if I'm worth your time; I'll create a gift basket of lies just for you.
Step into my world, or take a dive off the high rise: it's your choice. I will lie to everyone in regards to you. I'll tell them that we're in love, when you really just looked me in the eyes with more intensity than usual. I'll rope you in, and you'll be left with a bloody lip to match my own.
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Self Deception
PoetryPoetry 2017 And if I burn out in a fit of psychosis, remember me as a young god, with that smile made of daggers, even if I was the most dangerous thing you could've touched. Perhaps all that danger comes from the multiple personalities, but all I...
