The Liar
Some people just cannot be honest for the life of them. Others, like myself are all too honest. I wonder if honesty is like diarrhea, if it too runs in the genes? I will ask him, he will know the answer. In the mean time I just need to accept that this is something I cannot change and the liar just wants to get my goat. To clear their secrets like blackberries. They are sharp and hurt every time they scratch the surface. And like the moth I continually go towards the flame and get burned. The liar wants me to beat myself up and place the blame. A sociopath that gets off on secret sex relations. The liar is a miser and in constant supply of endless manipulation. I'm confused and mentally abused, like a douche that has been repeated reused. Left out in the sun to dry and watch wilt. A no brains with no balls left under his kilt. Riddled by shame, and guilt. The liar has taken his will. His might, his pride, his ability to just chill. Left uptight, I look up at the sky. So gray and dismal. I wonder... Why? As the liars evil eye lies upon me, thoughts cloud as rains falls. I hear the crows call out. A horn honk and siren in the distant. The sun breaks and the fog lifts for an instant. Truth becomes me but I'm already broken. I ask the store manage for the restroom key token. As I look into the mirror I can't help but think, liar lair lair can't you see. Sometimes your lies just hypnotize me.
Copyright © Ironic Zink | Year Posted 2022
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