the truth about lying to you

if I were an honest person

I would tell you

the tea bags beneath my eyes

were soaked in salt water

and the only reason

my lips still taste sweet

is because I drink honey

in an attempt to stick

my insides back together

without tearing myself apart

the way I used to

but I was never honest

so instead I claim

that there hang

two separate midnights

like ornaments to decorate

the foliage of my lashes

and my lips taste sweet

because nothing bitter

has ever passed through them

if I told the truth

the way that good girls do

I'd admit to you

that my face is red

from crying and my hands

are red from dying my skin

the color of strawberries with

my own insides and my

lips are red with lust and my

feet are red from

running away from my past

and my knuckles are red

from it catching up

but I've never been a very good girl

and I keep convincing you

that my eyes are raw from

allergies and my hands

are tinted from writing in ink

and my lips are pink

with the taste of your lips only and

my feet are swollen from

bad circulations and my knuckles

well that was an accident

really

it was

if I loved you

the way you love me

I could honestly say my skin

is bruised from tripping

and my clothes are mussed

by the wind alone and

you're the only man

I dream about kissing

but I think you know

although I've never said

that my skin is speckled

by someone else's love bites

and my outer layer

has been rearranged

by his greedy hands

and I long to be wrapped up in him

sometimes even

when I'm wrapped up in you

if I were a descent person

I would let you know

and let you go

but you and I both

hold on even when

I'm in his bed

and you come running in

to tangled sheets and broken dreams

even when my hands

are wrapped around his neck

we lock eyes

and everything is alright

because sometimes lies

feel honest

when we believe them

ourselves