You know it, but you don't.
Eyes can't shine like stars, and hair can't float like ocean waves, and the feet of beautiful people can't waltz onto your doorstep, and there's no such thing as princesses, but there is such a thing as monsters, and people can't protect you from them all the time.
Pretty faces really can be ugly, and lying a second time, a third time, a fourth time, a tenth time--that's possible, too.
They hold your hand, they tell you "everything's okay", even when they know saying it is easy, and it'll bribe you 'til another day, when you fall off the rails again, and no
one's around to pull you back up.
You skip down the street, though you know your feet should be dragging, though the leashes of dogs are just tied onto your ankles, though the sun is searing your skin, though sweat is dripping down your forehead, though the man standing next to you is fanning himself with an ice cold glass of I told you so.
They shove you in a box, and you're pounding like your Dad's old stereo, and you're screaming like a car driving in the rain that just can't brake, but they can't hear you. That, or they've left you-- i g n o r e d you.
And when you're alone,
when you're alone, you've got nothing better to do but sit there. Sit there, and wait for that fairytale person, that person you "know" is real, that person you "know" is perfect, that person who would "never" do that to you, that person who just mingles with the other stupid fantasies you have floating around in the back of your cluttered skull. You wait for that person to rescue you.
You feed your starving body on dreams that you (don't) know would never, ever, ever come true. You breathe in the smiles and the laughter and the hand-on-your-shoulder oxygen of "friends". Like an addict, you let it sit in your system and toxify your bloodstream, let it numb your brain, let it blur your vision, let it kill you, because
it gives you the quick high. It pushes the sad balloon that is your corpse higher in the sky, "if only for a little while," you say.
What is a lie?
I'm sure you know. After all, my dear,
you lie to yourself (and eat it),
get lied to by others (and eat it),
and lie to others (and don't forget, they eat it).
I guess you really can have your cake
and eat it, too.