confessions from a compulsive liar // 1.12.16.

thinking about how i lied to my therapist about not being able to cry

i. 

i am made of fireflies and daisy chains; 

i am fragile and sensitive 

and your words tear me apart 

till i am made of waterfalls 

and broken hearts

ii. 

i have a shriveled up flower 

dead in my head 

and i never took the time to water it 

perhaps i will never grow again 

perhaps i will be caught in the past,

my roots carrying poison and

reused knowledge

iii. 

the world is kind

the birds sing to me

the sun shines on me 

but i have built a wall of glass 

and i am not willing to 

pick up the hammer and shatter it

iv. 

you are sunshine and clouds 

but i only use you for your vitamin d and h2o 

when you turn into a white speck

and a drought begins

i will find a new solar system 

and i will be fine 

v. 

i am surrounded by souls and love 

but once the spotlight is not on me 

i will find company with loneliness 

and block out the world with 

bitter accusations of hatred towards me