R. Gordon Zyne

Lies

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