I’m not a liar
but I lie to myself,
I’m not a sociopath but
I dream of killing people,
and I know that
I’m a person at heart,
I sleep on pillows made
of memories and
listen to my own screams
and take them in as whispers,
I sleep on mattresses of
dad’s smiles and yesterday,
self identified as ignorant
and educated in night,
the sun went down
on me once and
I never came.