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Dyl Feb 2019
The art of lying
Is getting so good
At replying “I’m great”
Without even hesitating

The art of lying
Is being able to look
Your best friend in the eye
And say “I am okay”

The art of lying
Is being able to look
Into the eyes of your lover
And say “I love you too”

The art of lying
Is getting so great at it
For so long that you start
To believe it yourself

The art of lying
Is that now, it comes so naturally
That the guilt of doing it
Has become unnoticeable

I’m not sure if
there really is
an art to lying,
The colorful lies
Creating a masterpiece
Being able patch
A story together
Through their hues
Without a flaw

Maybe that’s it
Maybe that is the art
But it is toxic
Only a temporary relief
It gives you a mask
Making you look
Less and less like you
The more that flows
Out of your mouth
The less like you,
You become

It is not healthy
To constantly be
Someone I am not
But it is a safety net
Letting all of
My insecurities
And doubts slip through
Leaving behind only
My best attributes

Sometimes, the bad things
Don’t always fall away
Accidentally revealing
Themselves to the world
And in the moments
I panic the most
The facade
I worked so *******
Cracks just a little
Giving them a peak
Into my vulnerability
But I sweep
The pieces aside
Before any suspicion rises

I am an actress
Staring as a side character
In a movie about me
All my errors
Are left in
I must be perfect
I cannot make a mistake
Or then they’ll see
And I cannot afford that
Maybe that is why
The art of lying
Is so crucial to me
Dyl Feb 2019
When you say that you miss me
I pause, I can’t bring myself to tell you
That I’m no longer capable
Of getting attached to someone
For my heart is locked away
Afraid to be in the hands
Of someone who could easily
Let it slip through their fingers like sand
And pretend they never touched it in the first place
So I tell you I miss you too
Though I’m not sure if I really do
I built up walls no one can see
You think you gotten through to me
But I am a closed book, hidden away
Locked in The highest of towers
Behind the strongest of doors
All alone, and when you think
You’ve found the key
You’re only seeing the book
That I want you to see
The one decorated with the good things
So I’m not as bad as I seem

Last night you told me you’ve never seen me cry
There are very few people who’ve seen me cry
I must be “a strong independent young woman” you say chuckling
I think back to the last time I cried infront of someone
It’s been a while, I remember the silent tears
Streaming down my face, I was not bawling
I don’t cry a lot, but to call myself strong
Would make me a fraud
I am a coward hidden
Behind false walls and fake windows,
Trap floors and locked doors
But I thank you for your compliment anyway
Then I think of the last time I cried
I had broke down, fallen to pieces
I was alone, letting myself wallow
For two hours I sat there
Staring out my window
Just letting my tears be free
I cannot let myself be vulnerable
For if I do, I will fall apart even more

The truth is a scary thing,
It can destroy even the strongest
It can cause a whole being
To crumble with as much as one word
I suppose that is why
I lie to myself
To keep me from shattering
I play my cards safe
To avoid the hurt
But somethings are inevitable

— The End —