Elephant in the Room

I’ve been lying a little more recently. And I say they taste like lemons because that sounds like it should be right, but it’s not; that’s just another lie.

They taste like bile, like dirt and pain. My stomach aches when they form in my mouth and I taste everything bad when they leave. I see them file out in a line and I wish I could grab them and pull them back, swallow them up like they were never even thought of.

Sometimes I only realize I’ve lied when my throat stings and my stomach knots up like it’s not finished. I just feel more and more awful because I didn’t know they were lies and I’m unable to take them back. They’re out there. Like a cat rubbing it’s head on your leg instead of my elephant in the room.


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