Pretty Little Lie

I once knew a story so well

that I loved it; willingly enchanted 

by the sweet scent of deceit

that made my heart sing songs 

with a hypnotic beat – based

implicitly on duplicitous stammerings; hammering 

tiny smiles in pockets

of pain. I fed it, I fed it

and I fed it – this beast; I, no more

than its vessel

Its contents so indisguishable with mine own

that a solution was created – to hate 

dispicable truths

and smile through tainted fables

until the time came to admit defeat 

and write a line or two of

my own