#selfdeception
In a store full of colourful linen,
red or black, my fingers hesitate.
Like silk they slid between my fingers,
no difference except their colour.
I wore the black in the dressing room,
fitting my body, like a second skin.
Better than red I thought,
because black is my favorite.
Red was just a colour I passed by.
I walk out, black linen in my bag.
Years later, I am sure you will hear me say—
Red was better, yet black is my favorite.
I know black is better suited— yes
it is definitely better suited to me.
Raziel Vale
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 3:57 PM UTC
Be the saint, they’ll break your wings,
Be the rogue, the chaos sings.
They watch you act, they watch you play,
To twist you into what they may.
A tool, a weapon, a broken vow,
Good or evil, they don't know how.
You dance in rhythms you never chose,
In a theater where the curtain never close.
A smile, a laugh, a hollowed grace,
Masking the void of a nameless face.
You claim the truth, but the light is thin,
Where does the lie end and the soul begin?
Wear the halo and watch it fray,
Until your own heart gives you away.
Don the crown of the rogue, so grand,
Until your own shadow shakes your hand.
It was never a war of light and dark,
Just selfish roles that left a mark.
When the world is stripped and the greed is bare,
Ask yourself who is standing there.
Are they real, or a mirror’s glass,
Watching the same tired shadows pass?
You claim you never wanted the play,
But you built the stage where you decay.
In the end, you hold the script, unread,
And truth is just the lie you haven't said...
Apr 29
Apr 29, 2026 at 4:33 AM UTC
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
I said it plain, or so I trained my mind.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
And each word I gave, I wore upon my sleeve,
yet missed the veil that left me speaking blind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
I called it truth, if only to relieve,
the burden of admissions left unsigned.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
But then the fractured mirror taught me grief
for all the things that linger just behind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive.
And from those cracks, new patterns I perceive;
the threads—all twisted—knot themselves and bind.
I only spoke the truth I could conceive.
So if you were caught in the webs I weave,
then maybe I was never truly kind.
It’s true—I never wanted to deceive,
I only speak the truth I can conceive.
Oct 30, 2025
Oct 30, 2025 at 2:40 PM UTC
Lies are mercy, aren't they?
Little bandages over wounds too raw to touch,
soft words wrapped around a blade-
because what's a little blood between friends?
They call them shadows.
but don't they have weight?
Haven't they sat beside us at dinner tables,
held our hands at funerals.
kissed our foreheads goodnight?
Haven't they whispered in our ears-
"Shh. The truth would only ruin this."
People wear them like armor,
stitched with good intentions
because nothing says I care
like a well-tailored deception.
But armor rusts.
Tongues slip.
And no one likes the taste of old lies.
They lie because the world doesn't want the truth
Because the mirror would rather blur the cracks
than reflect the hollow-eyed thing staring back.
Because I'm fine
is easier than I haven't slept in days.
Because It's okay
is a free pass to avoid confrontation.
Because some truths burn.
and some people would rather drown in gasoline
than risk lighting the match.
Lies keep love alive, don't they?
One says, I'll never leave.
The other doesn't ask What if you do?
One says. I trust you.
They both pretend it's true.
Betrayals become misunderstandings.
Silence becomes space.
Absence becomes freedom.
Say it enough, and it sounds real.
Believe it enough, and maybe it doesn't hurt.
But lies don't stay small.
They grow ribs
Grow teeth.
Learn to walk on their own.
They slip from tongues like prayers-
practiced, automatic.
holy in their own way.
They turn love into a contract.
guilt into a leash,
truth into an inconvenience.
They say, You are safe.
They say. You are right.
They say. You had no choice.
Then-
a crack in the mask,
a break in the voice,
a silence too loud to ignore.
And suddenly, the truth isn't some mythical beast,
not a monster waiting under the bed.
If's just there, standing in the doorway.
waiting. Watching.
Tired of being the villain in
someone else's story.
Lies aren't mercy, are they?
Just wounds left open too long-
festering, rotting, waiting to be called by
their real name
Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 10:25 AM UTC
self-deception gets
stronger, as i get older -
not any better.
Dec 29, 2024
Dec 29, 2024 at 8:48 AM UTC
●●●
*the mind of a person
overwhelmed by Self-deception
does not try to know reason
to think or believe in
advice and criticism given
by someone
contrary to his speculation
he always examine
as it was an insult to his disposition
he continuously remain
in the grip of apprehension
hostility and aggression.*
●●●
©deovrat 26.09.2020
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 12:15 AM UTC
Paralysis by analysis
overthinking life and all
its complexities...
I think:
Truth, what is it?
When everyone feels as if they
know
and feel
even ****
in the name of this 'Truth'
I ask why...
What's the basis for that certainty
Is it something born through analogy?
I see that we are all mistaken, guilty
Of that condescension!
Pretensions
Self-deception!
The irony of this age of technological
innovation
is that it has become fancy
to crave disinformation
Truth is what we think we possess
in this great idiocy of the masses.
Jul 10, 2020
Jul 10, 2020 at 3:02 AM UTC
At this point in my life
I’m fairly certain
I’ve told more falsehoods than truths
And most of them to my gullible self
I’m trying to remedy that
In the hope of hating myself just a little bit less
(Wait that’s not true)
In the hope of being forgiven if I’m found out
Which, I guess
Is why I’m writing this dumb poem
(Wait that’s not quite true;
I think this poem — and I
Are rather clever)
Apr 30, 2020
Apr 30, 2020 at 11:05 AM UTC
A hint is given from golden ***
Of what you're destined to become
Failed dreams of youth laid before you bare
Reflecting now you do not care
Nectars grasp encases you
Enraptured in your thick cocoon
Clawed by music's residue
You gasp for golden ***
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 5:58 PM UTC
Lonely I's and lonely U's
With experiences of yea me too's.
Become sleepless 1's and sleepless 2's.
When picked up on dropping Q's
With self-deception we do dare choose.
To say outloud " yea we 2's."
Forever one we hope is true.
Always divided me and you .
Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 5:07 PM UTC
It’s hard to admit
I’m this in love with you.
Under the surface, fearing
It’s too good to be true.
And you are so good
How could I not be?
And when I consider it
It’s easy to admit...
How I love you.
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 11:04 PM UTC
Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.
Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.
Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.
Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.
Take my poem,
give it praise
forget about it
bring the next to appraise.
No more poems
means no more praise,
so forget about me.
But I'll be there.
Always.
Nov 5, 2017
Nov 5, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Do you really think because you think something,
it's true
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 7:02 PM UTC