As a child I tumbled
back and forth between parents
caught in deceit
I swirled through childhood great at excuses
masking half-truths
and what attention was righfully mine.
Swirls accumulate and come to an end
toppling over themselves in a culmination
of lies.
I always dreamed myself happy
I was only good at disguise
A limit reached and the
edge has been breached,
again.
I find myself spilling
but with new eyes and
new worries.
I fear, it's true.
I hate to feel.
