Apparently my life needs some sort of undesired consistency... An inadvertent pattern of being perused, subdued, and then emotionally misused.
I've become blinded to my own reflection... Clear beauty miraged by my own self-deception.
You can tell me what you think whenever you're drunken at night... Yet you can never find the right words when you're sober in the daylight.
All those little things you left behind... Are now my trinkets. Lonely artifacts of us... now only meaningful to me.
My secrets made me feel temporarily invincible. My lies made me feel permanently suffocated. My honesty made me feel breathtakingly free. Now here I am. Simply me.
It was a web of lies so intricately spun... I couldn't tell where it ended... Or how it had even begun.