she lies like a snake slithers.
she's natural at it.
the lies come as often and common as rain in april
giving her substance. quenching her thirst.
it's how she controls her surroundings.
she forms thoughts in other people's heads
twisting the truth into new structures of reality.
when she realized she could manipulate and toy
with anyone she pleased
it became addicting.
a drug.
she lies when she doesn't need to
and she lies when she does.
the lies make her
feel safe.
with each lie she spins in her gloomy, taciturn mind
she adds another knot in the mesh
she is weaving around herself;
protecting her fragile mind with armour
made of silver little lies.