I Don’t Lie

You see, I will come to you whispering tales

Of the exact things you want to hear.

You will watch as I force myself through

Memories again and again like a puppeteer

Trapped in her own web of silk threads.

They are the shiny strands that surround the clouds,

The ones people always tell you to look for

While everything else rises to enshroud

Your very sanity in a knot of tumbleweeds.

I will come to you and give you the gift of beauty,

Creating sweet conversations spoken through lips

That were too scared to open, too parched to kiss,

But with the help of a pen, were made to eclipse

From the same day their eyes did, met in

Tribute to the scarred, yet haughty auspices.

Your eyes will read the way it should have been

And it all will be remembered without hostages

Of the past nor insomniacs of the future.

I will come to you embellishing truths,

Painting an imaginary middle no one will dare

To ever cross without having a reality of their own,

For those who stand for nothing cannot prepare

For the story I write with the soft hands I've

Used to touch your very core.