Is what we seemed to have
Labeled as
Truth.
Lies are fiction.
Or so we say.
Fiction is what we make up and
What we make up isn't real.
Or so we think.
Non fiction is the boring facts
About someone's life,
All stretched out on a line
Going twice around the world
Before it gets back to us.
But what if fiction is just as much
Truth
As non fiction?
What if we aren't making facts up
But only embellishing
On the inner, whispered facts of
Ourselves,
The inner battle we hold,
And it comes out
Fiction