Lies. What a concept.
You know what's weird about lies?
There is always a stretch of the truth, or the lie IS the truth
Parents tell their kids never to lie, but what happens when lying becomes the new truth? Do we just stop being honest? What is honesty if lies are the truth? What happens when the lines dividing deception and honesty become blurred? What do we tell our sisters? Our mothers? Our sons? Our daughters?
Sometimes, I think of when a lie has destroyed me, especially if it came from the lips of someone I deeply care about.
Is that lie they told the truth about me? About us?
When they tell others who I am: am I hateful or judgemental?
When they say they love me: am I truly adored?
When the listeners hear the beckoning of sin: will they pick me?
(THE ANSWER IS ALWAYS NO.)
I am whoever they say I am. The lies, no matter what capacity, become the truth. No matter what I say or how many times I explain, I am the lie, and they'll never pick me over the lier, who is honest.
I will never understand.
Because the truth is, I’m loving, I am grateful, and I am kind. Maybe, I am even a special kind of beautiful. I think with the vastness of galaxies & always try to see the stars in the eyes of others. My heart is made of exotic gems & my existence is pure sunshine to the blurred gray. But if SHE or HE says that I am not, then nothing is who I am. Because SHE or, who is a liar, is the truth teller.
What a concept.