i’m not gonna tell you pretty lies, i’ve neither the time nor the inclination
someone else can regale you with gussied up tales of right and wrong
fast food fist fucked fractions, feeding fallacious fictitious factions
i’m here to alliterate, bullshit and chew gum (yep...all out of gum)
my lies will be ugly and brutal, yes; but so will MOST of my truths
my lies will be a hectic schedule less montage of juxtaposed moments
but my truths will be there in the morning, while the toast is still hot
looking balefully across the table, over the cornflake box, the sugar bowl
my lies will cough awkwardly, cutlery will tinkle on nervous crockery
yet my truths harbour no conversation and even less eye contact
the light from a clumsily lit cigarette, a spark in this morning's dark
the tea is slowly stirred as both the past and fast are broken
my lies will disseminate piece by piece, a measure of both word and time
tiny whittled slivers of taut see through flesh, scratch and release
i will cast these pieces to the winds, the gods and the unknown
a dyslexic jigsaw of ancient numbs and breakfast crumbs
About the Creator
Bren
“I know what I mean it to be and respect that someone else may read something entirely different.” Me
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