White Lies, by Shauna DesJardins
But it only digs me farther into this God forsaken hole.
It feels as though they protect me,
Yet I know they only distance me.
What I see is not what I say,
What I feel is not what I speak.
My heart cries out because the words leaving my mouth,
Are of my treacherous mind.
Vocabulary lined up so precisely,
Flowing together so nicely.
You become so caught up in it's diction,
Never thinking it could possibly be fiction.
What can be said when the words run dry,
When all the misderecting lines are revealed to be the perfect crime.