he lies to himself
says he’s happy says he’s strong
says the world’s got no teeth
but deep down he knows
there’s a dark pit inside
swallowing whatever’s left of him
piece by piece
.
you lie enough times
you start believing the bullshit
.
he’s painted his own prison walls
a nice shade of denial
locked himself in with the stench of it
because once you admit the truth
the whole rotten structure comes crashing down
.
he can’t see the deceit in himself
so how the hell’s he supposed to see it in others
no compass no map no north star
just a wandering ghost
pretending to be a man
and respect
gone
first for himself
then for everyone else
.
he starts thinking it’s all a sad joke
people are walking mannequins
cardboard cutouts in a game he’s made
he shoves the pieces around
burns the board if he wants
because why the hell not
he’s the liar he’s the king
but the king’s got no kingdom
only a throne of empty promises
and ashes of wasted days
.
without respect there’s no love
he can’t love a world he can’t even see
it’s just a blur of twisted faces
and him, the beast in the center
snarling at shadows
hollowed out and angry
because there’s nothing left inside
just the echoes of his own voice
bouncing off the walls
mocking him
.
what does he do
he chases his impulses
swallows the dirt
stuffs his mouth with poison
indulges in quick fixes
sex and fleeting highs
.
like a dog licking his wounds
he takes the lowest pleasures
like a starving man
eating trash
until he’s too numb
to feel the hunger anymore
.
but he never fills up
because there’s no filling a void made of lies
just feeding it more emptiness
until he becomes the beast he built
a creature that shambles through life
rotting from the inside out
.
and it all started
with a little lie
just a whisper at first
that turned into a scream
until it drowned out everything
even the man he used to be
.
© Richard Gordon Zyne