Two-tone lips
Chewed raw from a tempted anxiety
And a stitched together string
Told to keep quiet unless you have a lie to tell
So you can protect the connected streams of expectations
A lie balanced on one lip, the truth falling from the other
Catch it quick before it spills

Burnt bruised skin
Strangled by the soft palms of mercy
With a choked lie so we will protect their name
A yellow-blue watercolor of forgotten truths
Blended together with the concealed coverings
A punch again and one more hit
Block the kick to stop the pain

Obsidian knife blades
Cut deeper than the steel that you use
Black explosive rock glazed with the promise of blood
A line cut into it that separates truth from lie
A simple consequence of being the one who was there
A chance game token of who can get the better death
A knife that only reveals the bruised lips of the liar that we are