I lie.
I lie about lying.
I lie about other liars lying.
I lie to entertain
and I lie to avoid trouble.
I lie about the stupidest things.
And I lie to the stupidest people.
I don't ever lie to hurt anyone.
In fact, I often lie just to make someone feel better.
I lie to save face.
And I lie because I'm embarrassed.
I also lie because I'm ashamed.
I lie so people will like me.
And I lie to make my life easier.
Sometimes, I lie even when the lie will make my life harder.
I lie to make people laugh.
I lie so others will forget about things making them sad.
I lie so you'll stop crying.
I lie to boost my resume
and to get free stuff.
I lie to make myself seem smarter and more likeable.
I lie to babies and animals.
I lie to the dog
to make it sit or stay.
And I lie to the cat
for not coming when it's called.
I lie to schoolchildren
about the speed of the slide.
And I lie to them
when they fly too high
on the swings.
I lie to my boss,
my girlfriend,
my Uber driver.
I lie on my taxes.
I lie in the information I provide when I make donations
to public radio.
I lie on my Tinder profile,
I lie requesting a late checkout,
and I lie when I'm just
"asking for a friend."
I lie about my weight.
And my age and my height.
I lie about the most ridiculous ****.
I lie to impress,
to involve,
to engage.
I lie to my mom.
And I lied to my dad.
Siblings and cousins,
Aunties and uncles.
And to every other family member.
I lied to all my grandparents.
Rest their souls.
I lie to besties and buddies,
strangers and the displaced.
I lie to the ***
outside the store,
and I lie to every last bartender
as they give me house pour.
I lie about facts and figures,
numbers and data and results.
I lie about times and dates and destinations.
I lie about when I'm coming,
where I'm going,
and when I will arrive.
I lie about the color of my car
and the color of the sky
and the color of my eyes.
I lie about what you lied about to other liars.
To other liars who are also lying.
Lying about you.
I lie about my disease,
my dysmorphia,
and my decay.
I lie about cognitive dissonance
and other big words.
I lie to professional liars.
Preachers and priests,
politicians and prostitutes.
I lie about farting.
Did or didn't.
Either way.
I lie on the quizzes I take online
so the soulless algorithm
will think I'm cool.
I lie about random coincidences
as much as I lie about
earnest purposes.
I lie about my relationship with God.
I lie because there is no devil.
I lie about Santa Claus,
the Easter Bunny,
and the Tooth Fairy.
I lie to myself when I eat protein bars because they're good for me.
I lie when I try to convince myself that sweet potato chips are healthier than regular potato chips.
I lie about quantum physics
and quark mechanics
and stellar principles and properties
in the Cosmic Zone of Avoidance.
I lie in pure manipulation,
stinging self depreciation,
and personal effacement.
I lie in my singing
and my dancing
and in my telling of stories.
I lie to make the end of the story better.
I lie in the details.
A lie as I howl at the moon.
I lie to Peter Pan
and to Cinderella.
I even lie to her Fairy Godmother.
I lie to Jack and Jill
and the Three Blind Mice.
I lie to Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
I lie to make her garden grow.
I lie to the ancient gods
and the Apostles,
Siddhartha and Confucius,
Charlie Brown and Snoopy.
I lie to Lucy for five cents
when the psychiatrist is in.
I lie to Winnie the Pooh.
And Piglet too.
I lie to appear important
and connected.
I lie to get laid.
I lie to date above the rim
with women entirely too attractive for me.
I lie to be seen with them
and have them laugh at my jokes.
I lie in the hopes of someone
falling in love with me
for not lying.
I lie about my hairline
and the length of my Johnson.
I lie about how great a lover I am.
I lie about my desperate need
to be loved.
And all the pathetic methods I try.
I lie when I tell you I'm fine
and smile at your gesture.
I lie to you.
I lie to the sheep
and I lie to the wolves.
To the keepers.
I lie to the lions and the lawyers,
The chattel and the chieftains.
I lie to the cops
And the judge.
I even lie to the bailiff
On the bible
On the record
On the run.
I lie about racism and bigotry and social injustice.
I lie when I toss change
into a vagrant's cup.
About ideals and resolve.
I lie about most anything.
Accomplishments,
achievements,
adventures.
And alliteration.
Experiences,
education,
endeavors.
Even echoes
of edification
and explanation.
I lie about who was first in line.
And who ate the last *******.
I lie about the color of the seahorses in my dreams.
And I lie about what they tell me.
Anything.
I lie about what I tell myself
when I look in the mirror.
And so do you.
If you say you don't,
you're a liar.
I know.
I am a liar.
Believe me