Murderer
I am a liar, you know?
I lie constantly.
Every single word, though tasting of honey,
Is foul in its pure nature.
Even with the sweetest words,
I am repeatedly deceiving you.
I hate lying to friends.
But I fear of those friends,
Suddenly becoming acquittances
And I would be left to drift into nothing
Swallowed by my own mouth.
Hello! I’m a compulsive liar.
Yes. Compulsive to a point,
Where I shall lie not just for survival,
But for safety, comfort and joy.
But you won’t even know,
Mainly because I already started lying.
Even my hello is probably laced with something,
Poison that makes me cough up my heart,
Filling my lungs with words I regret.
But we are still friends!
And that is good. Even though…
I could be lying about that too.
Lies don’t even have beginnings or endings.
They are eternal and ever-flavourful!
Sitting in my stomach as if a parasite,
Dining on my ability to smile and not feel it,
Say things that I didn’t really mean it,
And yet. You don’t see it.
Maybe for the best!
Because if my mouth spilled the truth,
That I keep closed with my teeth,
You might think you didn’t know me.
The ME that never stopped lying,
With the fear to lose all.
It’s hard to lie about a ******
To commit such a foul crime,
On someone I knew best – myself.
But I cover it up well,
With few jokes about rainbows
And talks of girls and bars.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
Murderer
I am a liar, you know?
I lie constantly.
Every single word, though tasting of honey,
Is foul in its pure nature.
Even with the sweetest words,
I am repeatedly deceiving you.
I hate lying to friends.
But I fear of those friends,
Suddenly becoming acquittances
And I would be left to drift into nothing
Swallowed by my own mouth.
Hello! I’m a compulsive liar.
Yes. Compulsive to a point,
Where I shall lie not just for survival,
But for safety, comfort and joy.
But you won’t even know,
Mainly because I already started lying.
Even my hello is probably laced with something,
Poison that makes me cough up my heart,
Filling my lungs with words I regret.
But we are still friends!
And that is good. Even though…
I could be lying about that too.
Lies don’t even have beginnings or endings.
They are eternal and ever-flavourful!
Sitting in my stomach as if a parasite,
Dining on my ability to smile and not feel it,
Say things that I didn’t really mean it,
And yet. You don’t see it.
Maybe for the best!
Because if my mouth spilled the truth,
That I keep closed with my teeth,
You might think you didn’t know me.
The ME that never stopped lying,
With the fear to lose all.
It’s hard to lie about a ******
To commit such a foul crime,
On someone I knew best – myself.
But I cover it up well,
With few jokes about rainbows
And talks of girls and bars.
I didn't actually ****** someone! It's just something I wrote when I wanted to come out to a close friend, but was too afraid to lose them. It feels terrible to keep lying about so many things, hiding a completely other me. My friends are able to open up to me almost fully - yet I feel like I couldn't do that with them. The idea that maybe that's for the best sometime hangs around...
Anyways! Hope you enjoyed! Always willing to hear some feedback! I never actually took writing classes nor have I studied that much English poetry. SO if anyone has some tips and tricks - I would be really glad to hear them out! <3
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