He asked me to speak the TRUTH
And I yelled my refusal
With words I never learned to utter
Because my teeth had already discovered
How to staple my tongue
with LIES and half truths
So he thought me how
To lay down my confessions
With carefully constructed syllables
That screamed "revised edition"
And everytime I spoke them
I imagined novels oozing life
With characters that seemed more genuine
Than the company I chose to surround myself,

So the next time he asked me
to speak the truth
I opened my lips
And told him to put the words in my mouth
Because he was much better than i
At crafting FiCTION