I rather like the falsity of it all

It’s like eating spam and pretending it is steak

Driving a Plymouth Duster and pretending it is a Ferarri.

Only sometimes do I wish he were real

That I could touch him

Feel him

Wrap my future around the truth

Instead of wrapping it around his lies.

Someday I’ll have the truth

But it won’t be today

And tomorrow isn’t looking that great either.

He is like the fisherman

That gets a nice fish on the line

And refuses to pull it in

I am the fish

Not quite smart enough

Or able enough

To remove myself.

Somewhere in this

We both get what we want

Probably not hurting anyone

So it continues.

i am your lie

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