Old Lies

I’ve been wearing these old lies for so long now.

 

Like a child bundled against the cold,

Wrapped so tight,

Arms stuck straight out,

Waddling and yelling,

“Wait up, guys.  Wait for me.”

 

They can’t wait

 

And I can’t move.

 

Like a snake wearing all my old skins,

One atop the other,

Tattered,

Bedraggled

And stiff as a board.

 

Like a lifetime’s worth of rain,

Frozen on my skin,

Encased,

Unable to breathe.

 

These old lies,

 

Layered,

Held in place by deep-set hooks.

 

I can’t feel the barbs until I try to strip them off.

They leave jagged scars.

 

So be it.

 

I wish I could say that I’ll strip them off

And walk naked and unafraid without the armor of my lies.

Truth?…

I’ll be a bit afraid.

Maybe more than a bit.

 

So be it.

 

Naked.

Bleeding.

En-scarred.

Better all of those than peering immobile and insensate,

Trapped,

 

Beneath the weight of these old lies.

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11 thoughts on “Old Lies

  1. Amazing post coming from a soul who felt it all. I admire your courage to share such intense , powerful , raw and real emotion. How many times I felt like this, “Wait up, guys. Wait for me.”

    They can’t wait

    And I can’t move.” And yes, it’s better to be naked, bleeding than being trapped and in bondage of a negative past that holds us back from the happiness we seek.

  2. I love the visual of the lies as a child bundled against the cold… Feels so good to strip those lies off and be real. Carrying them around is so exhausting, but you don’t realize it until they are gone.

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