I Lie, Therefore I am

I scream into mirrors,

fractured reflections dripping from my tongue.

The halls hum with eyes that remember too much,

and I move like smoke,

curling through cracks in the walls.

A lie is a pebble I’ve thrown into ponds,

watching ripples twist into impossible shapes.

Whispers cling to my coat,

following me like hungry ghosts

through alleys where the walls breathe.

I trade my own shadow for a mask,

slipping into it while the wind counts the stars.

Each word I bend

folds the sky in half,

folds the people I meet into paper boats

floating toward unseen shores.

Even my heartbeat is a secret,

ticking in Morse beneath my ribs.

The world is a labyrinth of glances,

and I am the echo it cannot catch,

swallowing my own reflection

to survive.