lie to me

I can’t speak my mind

because I hanged myself with words

since the rope didn’t work.

I want to throw out the truth

but I’m weak and I’m scared.

Your eyes tell me stories your mouth hasn’t spit

so I wonder if mine do the same.

Can you read them?

I suppose they’re clouded over by now

with all the lies I’ve been told

and the promises I broke.

But if you’ve never swallowed metal

I’ll tell you how it tastes

because it’s not as pleasant as it feels.

I lose myself in the night

wishing for connection and creating pain.

So please lie to me;

tell me you can save me.

Sometimes a sweet lie is better than a bitter truth.