I can tell if I'm faking it or if I'm really losing it.
It seems like it's both because I'm a liar I'll admit.
I never lie to her and I never lie to him,
But what's the harm behind a simple fib?
I made up stories for too damn long and I don't know how to win,
They're eating me from the inside with my blood running down their chin.
But I can never tell people how I feel because then they never know if to trust me,
And trusting me is such a bad idea and that's my honesty.
He can trust me I'd never hurt him so long as I live,
While I'm breathing I vow to protect him.
But others why why do I lie?
I can't figure out what's wrong in my mind.
Plus plus plus multiplied by seven,
I really really wanna end it.
That line didn't make sense but I'm caught up in thought,
And caught up in thought I often do get lost.
Among the anger among the rage,
Swimming through the jokes and the self hate.
I'm doing my best to be honest,
And I never lie to those important.
But how hard is it god dammit to tell the fucking truth?
Tell me if you figure it out and I'll tell you if I do?
YOU ARE READING
Honesty Hour
PoetryI'm a liar. A dirty, dirty, secretive liar. The only honesty about me is shown through my writing. (yes the cover is a selfie I don't know how to do covers I'll change it later)
