Truth is, it WAS in brightest day
That the lie came down my way.
Crept down the walls
Moved over my bed frame
And came to rest on my chest.
Pulling away the layers to get to the saline core
A pool left behind and thought emptied
But the lie knew better.
Anansi had no tongue like this lie.
This guy could rationalise death
Speak the world of murder
Knew where the bodies were buried
And had a plan to keep me fed
That is… as long as I kept him fed.
One day I got the nerve to say “ENOUGH! Die Already!”
Stretched my hand deep inside my chest
And started to pull
The lie had made itself comfy; spreading itself all over me.
To pull one meant pulling tendon and vein.
All was a labour in vain.
My body grew profane and I grew sick.
Sick of the lie. Sick of its presence; a curse with a bow on its head.
But… how did it know?
How did it know there was saline in my heart?
A part… most hidden.
Decorated with crosses and perfumed.
Sealed over with white shirts.
How did it know?
Could this lie been silently at home and at rest in my chest… all these years?
Full grown monster.
Did I cultivate this disaster?
Maybe. Maybe our own lies are we.
Or maybe we’re meant to think that way
Because of what “they” say.
Either way, a book will bring it out.
No lie must ever reside in a lord’s mouth.
© tracy j h
a lord knows many truths about himself. how he chooses to approach those truths may be a completely different story