I find myself opening my mouth and out come,
tumbling and spinning and doing all sorts of acrobatics,
lies.
I don't even think about it.
They spit themselves out without my permission.
About inconsequential things, that
to be completely honest,
I would be completely fine with saying the truth.
But once they tailor themselves into the story they see fit,
I'm left to pick up the pieces,
left to build
on top of the perfect
little life that they depicted for me.
