I am the lie.
Whether you choose to believe a statement
Rolled off the tongue with such finesse, is up to you.
What I choose to tell you is whatever is on my mind,
For I am the lie you cannot decipher,
A lie that spirals into a lifetime story,
A lie too deep to call “untrue”.

 Am I telling the truth now?
How are you to know?
For I could be letting you into the world of an imaginary person,
Far from the world in which I stand in.
How can you be so sure that you can trust me?
When I secretly tell all you have told me to another.
Your darkest secrets have been exposed,
All for conversation.

 I lie to those closest to me,
Sometimes for protection,
Other times for the mere fun.
Why do I tell such lies?
I can ask myself but the answer remains the same,
My soul impure.
A million lies may leave my lips,
Yet my conscience shall remain intact, untouched.

 
The lies come mindlessly,
Sick and without thinking.
You may talk to me and hear 5 lies,
You may speak to me and hear 10,
Every encounter with me is untruthful,
These lines,
These words,
This poem,
Is a lie . . .