liars

Forget you.

The minutes turn to hours. These months are moving faster then days in the year. When did that happen? When did months fly by faster then the actual days. Something is missing. Something is losing it’s place with me. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s slowly further from my reach, way beyond my grasp. If I reach for it, it’s no longer there. Disappeared into the months that move faster than the days.

Its was either you or me. You with your sad, melancholy feelings. You with your never ending excuses, line after line of lies that you word so eloquently. You against the world, or something like that. Anchors holding you down, to help you from steering off course. We were all pawns in your game of life. Another person you lined up, to shoot back down again. YOU are what matters. YOU are what holds all this clout.

You, you, and only YOU.

Selfish is, as selfish does. Cherry pick only the things that matter and that fit our needs. Everyone against you. Everyone having what you wanted. Everyone having what you needed. These countless stories of being the warrior in battle, going off to war. As always, only you.

You.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so blind? How could I have believed these stories that were mere myths to an average person. That was you. All you, right?

You.

When I no longer have to pick up the pieces of you, its becoming easier to forget you. When your ghost stops haunting my sleep, it’s easier to forget you. To leave these memories and misplace these feelings of what never was. I could never be that selfish. I could never be that petty. Maybe I was a fool in believing, a fool in deceiving all these lies. You were the master conductor of this orchestrated drama. How delicately you picked at your strings and watched people come back to you. How violently you cut those same strings when they didn’t seem to fit in your world. I could forgive you. Forgive every single perfectly worded explanation. How can I forgive a person, I am already forgetting?

If only you knew how easily people can misplace you. How easily they can forget everything. All I want is to forget everything about you. Its easy to make up mythical stories of battles and wars. Stories about the world being so tragically against you. The minutes turn to hours, the days become months, and like a well dressed villain your name seems to escape me. You are easily forgotten, and forgetting you is easily done.

5/10/2014

 

The Boy who blocked his own shot.

Lies are sweeter than the truth. Sweet as candy that burns and decays below the surface. It doesn’t hurt when it’s sweet. It doesn’t hurt to believe, but it hurts when you leave and you watch everything burn into nothing. People love a hero. They love a captain that takes charge of the ship, even when you drift off course. Its the course that you stick with, the course that you lie with, the course that you can’t help but pretend doesn’t exist. Until everyone knows and you make villains out of saints because it’s what you know best. As far as everyone is concerned there is only one hero. Everyone else is just a storm of villains that drives the ship off its course.

Everyone knows better than everybody else. Everyone has something to say and yet it never truly matters anyway. Because truth will always become lies. Words will always get twisted and you only see what you want to believe. Sparing feelings is better than saying anything. Lies are easier to produce then being honest with the truth. How our lies intertwine into webs of uncertainty and everyone knows. When you make up things in your mind, that are fair greater than any honesty we could see. Honesty is a blunt cut, but we can’t help but dress it up with lies that soften the blow.

I become the villain, that always spoke too soon. I become the hatred, the darkness, the storm that turned to a hurricane. The hero just continues through the storm without a scratch, and I am still cleaning off the salt from my wounds. It only matters what the captain says that turns him into the hero. It only matters if the sun shines down on to the sea and clears the way.

It only matters what you tell everyone, to make yourself feel better. It only matters how much of the story is real, instead of the fabrication you want everyone to believe.

I still sleep soundly, I hope you do the same.

11/16/2015

Liar, Liar.

I am attracted to liars. People that stretch the truth farther than Pinochio’s nose ever could go. Their personified existence that stand in the balance of reality and dreaming. Words are more believable than actions, everyone knows that. Oh, how I love the words that spill out of your tongue and out onto the open spaces of air between us. You’re always right, and I am always wrong.

You think I don’t know that everything you say, never matches up to what you mean. That every single conversation you expect me to believe, is just another fabricated idea you wished were true. Because a lie is far too beautiful to be untrue. Lies are more beautiful than the vicious honest truth. I love words more than I love people, because even people let you down. But words? They’re just little letters and sounds that clutter up open spaces.

Will you let me down? Will you let me down this time?

Standing tall on clouds and building castles in the skies. The words you say in the clear cold air becomes the clouds that fog through the city and the streets. People never want to hurt you. People never mean what they say. All they want is for you to believe them and never leave their side. Tell me what I want to hear, tell me all the pretty things I need to believe. Tell me everything and then when I am gone tell me nothing in return.

Everything you say is lies and every day I keep fighting for whats true. Every single day I believe you and every single time I know that it’s not true. But then a light shines down from your clouds, down from beneath your castles, and in that moment I believe in you just a little bit longer.

You’re nothing but a liar. Liar, Liar, every things untrue.

8/8/2015

 

All the pretty girls.

He was a master of taking hearts but no hearts were ever broken. I never cried for him, I don’t believe anyone else did either. Not that I was aware of, not that I even cared. But the girls like moths flocked to his light. Always all the pretty girls with broken prides and promises. A master of disguise and a gentleman with charming words that entrances even the darkest of hearts. The light that over shadows the illusion of right from wrong. Speaking the words they longed to hear, always there for the taking. Never giving much of anything, but paid no mind taking the countless of hearts that graced his path. A heart lined path that were prized like trophies.

He was so fucking cool.

It was the impression that he gave that made us all wonder. The talking salesman that spoke the words but never cared enough about what the words would mean. His appearance was nothing more than smoke and mirrors, an illusion everyone wanted but nobody could ever attain. The girls knew in the end they were lies but couldn’t help but be wooed in the play. It was always just a play. Just another game that no one ever bothered to win. He won, he lost, most times he just broke even. At least in his mind. The lies out weighed the words and sometimes people would get hurt. Sometimes, but not all the time. He failed to mention certain aspects of his life and in the end everything would come tumbling down. At least that’s what we all wanted. We waited for the demise of the smooth talking man with the cool demeanor. His smooth talking ways would save the world if it could, instead it saved his performance and again he went on his way.

You are so cool.

We all had our part to play. We all had our purpose. All the pretty girls knew to imagine it was over. Don’t believe the gentleman in the sharp suit and the cool talking ways. She knew it all but as silly as girls are believed every lie to be truth. Silly girls believe anything if there’s a feeling involved. Silly girls would drop everything before they fall. Silly girls are silly to believe in the charms of a salesman feeding them lies. We knew it. We all knew it. But we couldn’t help but be silly and foolish in the webs of these lies. We wanted to be the cool girls. The cool girls that could play their part. The cool girls that could match wits with the cool gentleman in the sharp suit. Instead we were all stupid silly girls. Stupid, stupid girls. It wasn’t love, it was lust. It wasn’t fun, it was funny. It was nothing more than a game that we were all sure to lose. No hearts were broken, no hearts were lost. Still he carried our hearts like trophies through paths. The path of victory to the path of our own foolish sorrow. We were all stupid in falling again. Why does this keep happening? Who is the next victim in this play? The play that’s a game and it ends with a loss. What did we lose in the end if it wasn’t our hearts? Just our pride with our dignity in the shameful deceit.

Stupid, silly, girl.

The games are over on my part but I know he still plays. I can’t help but wonder about him from time to time. He liked to talk to all the pretty girls. All the pretty girls at the bar. Sometimes, I want to ask him “Do you still talk to all the pretty girls and lie about all the other girls?”. Is the game still worth the thousands of hearts in your path? Does she know your lies better than the bed you can’t make? I already know all the answers. She makes your bed better than the words that you say. She knows all your lies and still plays all your games. She’s the cool girl in the wave of all the silly stupid girls. But you can’t help but talk to all the pretty girls.

It was always all the pretty girls.