About
Denial
I deny my abilities for the sake of my pride,
To weep, to sigh in angst and sorrow.
I deny my need to rest, though my eyes are heavy with sleep.
I deny my need to laugh, though my lips long for a smile.
I deny my heart love, though it pulses with loneliness.
And I deny my friends comfort, though they plead and beg for my hands,
To touch, to hold, to reassure the hope in human relation.
I deny my family honesty, though their mouths mumble about lies that they can see through.
I deny my love, in which I lack, though he kisses my lips in anticipation for sweet, sweet, gentle whispers.
I deny my enemy reaction, though her sneers and grins encourage cold wrath.
And I deny my reflection,
That image some hold dear,
And others deface.
I deny myself.
I deny my friends.
I deny my family.
I deny my love.
I deny my heart.
I deny my being.
I am the essence of a long-lived lie.
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