It’s all a lie, it’s all a lie, it’s all
Mandy, it’s me.
I looked in the mirror.
I could finally see—
past, present, future,
as clear as can be.
I will not lie, I will not lie, I will not—
The truth that sits below where the scapula can reach.
The crimson thick certainty that runs until it’s crusted.
And the lies stick—
but the truth is covered by that damn red cement.
Clean it off, clean it off, clean it
until there’s no stick left.
No hiding behind subtle nuances that
make it easy to miss.
All you had to do was ask.