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IDQT Poetry: The Liar

30 May

Don’t believe a word i say.
The words that are spoken should not be seen as black and white but grey.
Oh the sorrowful bits of truth that intertwine with lies!
The beautiful complicated warning signs of fate.
The words spoken out of love or hate.
The frightful string of poison exhaled from my lungs and across my vocal chords vibrating them until the damage is done.
Such a delightful chain reaction.
The lie is bare if only it were to a liar to cover it.
A true liar.
Not one who tells their mother where they are going to be that night and then are not.
No, Something more.
Bifurcate my tongue and sew my mouth together in the middle.
Let me speak from either side of my mouth.
Split me down the middle showing both poles. Truth. Lie. Love. Hate. Malice. Envy.
Do these things to me so that you can see the truth.
I am the one who always knows best. Ne’er a contradictory word said.
The last whispers of the dieing sun.
The softly spoken air when you lie in bed. The horrible things that live in your head.
The ruby red droplets of truth that are never bled.
How fine is the dangling line of a sweet golden lie?
The small truth a hollowed out wooden guitar and the lies are only strings, but when played they exude such beautiful and dangerous notes.
Dissect my mind and split me in two.
Find out what is really true.
No omens. No riddles. Not a telling shooting star that passes by.
Because within my truths there is only a lie.

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