The lies I tell myself

I’m a damaged
broken
husk of myself
robotic in my movements
most unremembered
except the ones that torture
an intrusive stain
that grows ever larger
as I test my fate

I can’t get out of bed
I’m a fatal disaster
if I move
it will prove
I can make my life better
instead
I’ll pull the covers
drink the wine I hate
pop pills to reach a
chaotic
nightmarish state

Rise and drive
to work
I’ll show my
softer side
give government aid
to those in need
all while explaining
“I didn’t make the rules”
desensitized by the flood
of humanity’s doom

Come home and look for love
through a goddamn phone
though I’m getting older
my years are showing
new starts don’t exist
just cycles repeating
with the same cast of players
in different clothing

Wanna shut off the noise
feel myself again
though my identity
changes with the
blowing winds
accept where I am
shrug off the doubt
and reject the lies
I tell myself.

Emily C. Poésie, The Literati Mafia © 2019
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2 thoughts on “The lies I tell myself

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