throughout my life time i have become so good at lying
to others, to my friends, my family, to myself
that when i feel something i ask,
"am i just lying?"
lying to please and reassure others
lying to make sure no one is concerned
lying through smiling teeth because everyone else matters
lying to myself for pity, for attention, for anything
i wonder if all of this, all of this pain and strife is just one big lie that i keep up because i am selfish and cruel
i ask "am i lying?"
while lying sweating and breathless on my twin bed
while giving hypocritical advice
while spilling my guts out to someone who loves me
while crying until i can't breathe
while someone looks at me, searching for something even i can't find
while showing face for the good of something that doesn't even care
at this point,
am i just a lie?
a poet's confessional 