Sunday, November 13, 2005

Liar

I’m a liar.
Not the kind that is malicious
or will steal and lie about it,
but the kind that says, "yes"
when they want to say, "no".
The kind that says, "move in",
when they want to say, "move out".
The kind that says,
"Yes, let’s have lunch,"
when all they want to do
is stay home and write.
I pretend that I’m happy
when I’m not,
clean when I’d rather create,
call when I’d rather be alone.
and bake cookies when I'd rather
play my guitar.
I’m such a liar
I don’t even know
what I’m really feeling right now.
I don’t even know
if I’m lying.

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