It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
I said it plain, or so I trained my mind.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
And each word I gave, I wore upon my sleeve,
yet missed the veil that left me speaking blind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
I called it truth, if only to relieve,
the burden of admissions left unsigned.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
But then the fractured mirror taught me grief
for all the things that linger just behind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
And from those cracks, new patterns I perceive;
the threads—all twisted—knot themselves and bind.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
So if you were caught in the webs I weave,
then maybe I was never truly kind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive,
I only speak the truth I can conceive.
Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 2:40 PM UTC
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
I said it plain, or so I trained my mind.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
And each word I gave, I wore upon my sleeve,
yet missed the veil that left me speaking blind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
I called it truth, if only to relieve,
the burden of admissions left unsigned.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
But then the fractured mirror taught me grief
for all the things that linger just behind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
And from those cracks, new patterns I perceive;
the threads—all twisted—knot themselves and bind.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
So if you were caught in the webs I weave,
then maybe I was never truly kind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive,
I only speak the truth I can conceive.
