Poets logo

Wooden Lies

A Stream of Consciousness Poem for the Unfiltered Challenge

By Michelle Liew Tsui-LinPublished 2 years ago β€’ 2 min read
Top Story - September 2024
Wooden Lies
Photo by Rhamely on Unsplash

Prologue

Pinnochio's always been a favorite Disney character, and a tool parents use to remind children not to fib. And he reminds adults of the consequence of their delusions.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

I wanted to be real, that’s allβ€”

to have flesh and bones,just like you.

But I told them what I had to,

and they trusted me,

didn’t they?

I smiled at them, I nodded,

and twisted the truthβ€”

until it shattered.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

Do they see me now?

The way my nose grows,

not just in front of my face,

but into everything,

curling up into dead knots.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

I wanted freedom once beforeβ€”

to walk, to jump,

but each word carved deeper into the wood,

Splitting.

Splitting.

Splat.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

Real kids tell the truth, they saidβ€”

but I’m not real, am I?

(Not yet, not yet.)

So I say what they want me to.

(Wouldn’t you?)

A lie’s better than dead silenceβ€”

the hollow thump on the wood

where a heart should beat.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

But a lie never ends, does it?

One lie merges with the next,and I pull it,

Tug,

Pull,

Stretch,

longer, thinner,strung like a stiff puppet

with too many hands

pulling.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

Who’s pulling me?

Is it Geppetto?Jiminy?

Or someone darker,

Someone nameless?

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

The strings tighten with each pull,

and I hear the awful creakof my wooden limbsβ€”

but I smile to please them,

hoping they won’t notice

my stiffness,

my tightness.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

They believed me once.

But nowβ€”they see my nose,

the way it stretches before me

making a path of no return.

Perhaps they’re lying, too.

(A lie defends another.)

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

If I could stop thisβ€”

just tell the truth for one momentβ€”

but how can a puppet know the truth?

What’s real when all I’ve ever been is wood,

someone else’s dream?

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

I wanted to be real,

but all I’ve made are tales,

so tall that, in the dark,

when my strings are still,

they cast their shadow on the wall.

They’re always thereβ€”

growing,

Growing.

Growing.

So huge I’m lost beneath them.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

Maybe when I’m good,

I’ll wake up one fine day,

no strings, no woodβ€”

just the truth.

πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘ΊπŸ‘ΉπŸͺ€πŸŽ­πŸŽ­πŸ€‘πŸ‘Ί

I’ll be a boy, a real boy,

with a thumping heart

instead of splintering legs.

But until thenβ€”

one more tale,one more fib.

Just one more.

(It wouldn’t hurt, would it?)

inspirationalStream of Consciousness

About the Creator

Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin

Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.

Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment
    Written by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin