Smoke And Mirrors, The Good Kind

Lie to me.  Tell me a bunch of truths that you know aren’t real, but please make it convincing.  I don’t ever want to know that I’m being lied to.  I don’t ever want to know what you really think.  I don’t ever want to know what you’ll really do.  The only thing I do know is that I never want to hear it.

Make them sweet.  The left over fondant from a grandiose cake that I can’t help but pick and pull at.  Halloween night, after the tricks.  Make it green.  Pour your lies like honey into my ear.  From your lips I can’t see through the thickness.

I hope they’re bulletproof.  They can’t be Swiss cheese lies, full of holes that my over active mind can dance through to find reality.  Don’t paint them with convoluted colors of bright and shiny, but also make sure they aren’t too dark or dreary.  Slip them in my lunch between the apple and the goldfish so I’ll nibble at them throughout the day and not notice how they’re coated in falsehoods.

Can you do that for me?  Lie to me in the most glorious way.

Why?  Because a lie is always better than the truth.  The truth is you looking at me and saying words that hurt.  Painful pricks from a needle until your hand gets tired or my face begins to bleed.  One of us will find the exit using truth as our guide.  You can’t hide from truth’s flashlight.  Why still?  Because in a lie there are truths but these truths are only the best parts of us.  Lie to me and keep us at our best so we can never be anything else.

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