Lies and Excuses

It's hard to write a sap story when you're always the bad guy.
Hard to gain some sympathy when the rumors are always true.
It's hard to gaze into the mirror when you always see a mask starring back.
Hard to be in denial when your falseness is completely understood.
The underwriting of my existence and the etchings on my soul
Are as dark and murky as the most turbulent oceans
Beaconing onto reefs, desperate misfortunate souls
The catalysts forming my deception are unannounced and often overlooked.
The relapses that occur so often, repeating,
Are a cycle of grief and loathing.
My addictions are magnetic in their unbreakable description,
Their ties as strong as carbon fiber.
The changes they promote in my deepest inner being
Turn me into a plastic coated liar.
The sights beheld by these eyes, perceiving,
Never fail to eclipse my better judgement.
They never fail to send my world crashing,
Never fail to collapse and disrupt.
Why I do as I choose to do,
Why I always choose the path less suggested
Is a question I have pondered countless times
With no answer ever close to present.
Maybe one day the bottom will prove to be yet deeper
And once again I'll experience free fall.
Maybe, just maybe, when that day arrives
The inner changes I will remember to recall.
Maybe I'll stop these self-destructive patterns.
Maybe end this never ending self abuse.
Maybe I'll sever the link I have to my suffering
That link shrouded by lies and excuses.