Lie to me, over and over and over again. How does it taste when it rolls of your tongue? Does it sound like music to your ears? Do you enjoy my face when you tell them? The crease between my brows, or the dimples in my cheeks. Do they comfort you when you’re all alone at night? Or are you drowning, slowly suffocating trying to keep track of everything you’ve caused. In your mind everyone is a puppet on a string, playing your endless games. No one will ever find out who you truly are. The lie will never end.
Who are you? You’re a blank slate, an adventure that has yet to unfold, something that no one could see if they turned out all of the lights. You don’t exist, you’re a figment of everyone’s imagination. You’re torture for the ones who love you and you’re a demon to the ones who hate you. You disappear and only return at your own discretion, to reek more havoc on the newest victims in your life. You can’t hold on to the ones you’ve tormented forever, because what goes around will eventually come back. You put me under your spell and tangled me in your web of lies just to watch me suffer. Do you enjoy it? Was anything ever real? Will it ever be real again?
As for me? I miss the lies, being tangled up in the yarn that is your confusing story. You were beautiful, a new and shiny toy, something for me to hold onto tight and never let go of. I curled up with the lie every night when I’d fall asleep. I’d wake up in the morning engrossed in the lie, I’d embrace and kiss and make love to the lies. They made my head spin, I was blinded by my heart of gold. I was submerged in the lies and I never would’ve known. I was in love with the lies and I never would’ve known. I never thought it would be you; I never thought there was a lie… but all this time, the lie was you.