There are many things I do not reveal
Whatever is my truth is lost in the swirl
Of my rotating disguises.
There I am in the corner on a creaking rocker
In the musty light reeking of dust and yellow paper
Sobs echo in the hall
But as you come closer
There I am laughing at my own jokes.
What’s so funny?
I am.
Those claw marks on my cheeks
Are just the tears burnt dry
From this week’s lies
And the fading sun you see
Is just the morning over me.
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