The truth that lies

I'm so familiar with construct of a lie, I can see them from far off, before the carrier even knows it's taking form. I look over the lies of my youth, and those in the not so distance past... some of them trivial and some I'd rationalized.

More times than not - I'd lied because I was afraid. Afraid that the truth would shred what little value I had in the world, afraid that it would show a repulsive excuse of a man.

I had no idea that the lies would bring to reality - the thing I'd sought to avoid.

(This was tough to relive)