The Way I Lie

For the hopeless days to pass quicker. They silently whiz by. These lies are not alien or torturing. They are not evil and are not born out of vicious intent. These lies are soothing and comforting. They are hopes so distorted. These lies curl up to me, shiver at the cold and become giggling children in the warmth. With storm, rain, snow outside, they find shelter in winding around the hot radiator, the pipes zigzagging through the apartment. They find home in a place I have invited them to live in. We have been friends, they have been my confidantes. But not without price does this friendship come, this kinship in hardship. Not without the loss of innocence do these lies stay comforting the soul. They demand a part of me, leeching onto the susceptible bits, the parts of life I want different, long for to be changed. The power I have given up. I have placed it in the hands of these lies I choose to believe in. There are cold winter days when I feel like a shell, a puppet held by strings. My lies command my each and every move until they know me safe back within the four walls we have made our lives in. We have built our world in. Hanging between my darkest fears and dearest hopes.

Alone is easiest to lie. This is when the lies most confidently appear, manifest themselves in the full light. Unafraid of the crippling blow of reality or the outside world. Teasing they show their snow white teeth as they rip the pink skin off my heart. Watch it beat until I kill it with lies. Watch me lie until I leave a void behind. But they whisper. They murmur in a constant hush. They grow in confidence each and every passing day. Venture outside, on the other side of the front door. Down the corridor. Sliding down the flight of stairs until they reach the street. Nobody stops them. They are invisible to everyone else but my hands are bound by the sweet illusion, my own lies, my own confidantes and assassins. I depend on them just as much as they depend on me. I long for the still warmness of my apartment. I long for the solitude I broke by embracing these wretched lies.

I know how it ends, I even know what comes next. I still saw you there with me. There we were, a happy two. No lies, nothing but me and you. I saw our future, the mundane, expectable life. The two that would multiply. Then the lies could be stopped, could be contained and banished back into the pipes they so adore, purr when they wrap themselves around. You could help me. Or is that a lie? That I could love you well? Not with anger or revenge would I depart with the lies but with a rapid, almost astronautic speed I would forget. Forget the existence of, forget the choking grip of, forget the burning clench of, my lies.

Who created you? Was it I? Why do you fight so hard the real emptiness? Why does it hurt you? Just stay for now. Expect no threat from the outside, all is calm on the other side. Stay and enjoy the warmth, the company I can offer. Stay and make me believe that when the time comes I will be able to forget you with an astronautic speed. Promise you won’t outstay your welcome. Promise you won’t break that precious part of me. Promise you will leave the heart intact. Then I might call you again, my lie. My life.