Truth Mode

Trust all words, used to matter, no the now, just empty speech. Blanketed and passable fake to help you sleep at night. Needlessly feel the sting of lies to face Unsuspected rug wrenched away from security. It's all twisted, tangled, glued to fit perception of programmed life. A poke or jab at feelings by trusted soul Blindly naive, kept prisoner of broken heart Other voices now shouting over crowd of cover up. Life finds way of total reveal of conscience. Wasted years of coping and telling self, believe them...they love you...never to hurt you.. False impressions of psuedo-relationship out of control Wounded by loves hurt we receed to complacency Left with half-soul, half a mind and half- hearted.. Heather Turner