Lies

Telling lies is such an horrible habit.
You frown if you notice the deceit,
but it seems you kind of need it
because you barely stand this ugliness.

You get charmed and believe
the silly artifacts they give
to make you feel happy.
Are you happy?

You keep on telling me I don't know anything about love
I tell you neither do you because you want more
from me, I gave you enough, you want deceit.

Did I tell you something you hate?
I didn't know that was a secret and hidden place.
You looked so confident again.
I just asked the question and you fell...
...down.

You are just a fake.
You are something you're not on your bed
and you blame 'cause I found your weak spot.

You are not free,
in fact you're chained.
You are actually weak,
you try to chase this pain away.

I don't have the need to make you feel safe.
I sound selfish and cruel, but your rage
is something I don't deserve
to heal and to bear.

You are lies fed.
Don't you see it?