Can you see in my eyes that I am a liar? Or has is faded away?

Perhaps, it is something you are born

with, that just settles down when it is not welcome. The songs in my head cannot drive away the
pressure in my chest.

It’s pushing me.

Always pushing me.

Do I regret anything? No.

Except that I’m an awful liar.

I feel too bad for being so good.

Talents aren’t always a thing to be proud of, you know.

Is something so natural, God given? To fight away, or to take advantage of? It should make me
stronger… it instead, tears me down. To the point of dust that lies in hell.

If I was blown away by the warm winds to a distant place where no one could witness or hear my
beautiful lies, would I still have this gift, this curse?

Take me to that place.

Where no one can feed my pride.

My pride of angry lion lies.

Please, I want to go…

This place I am in now makes me uneasy.

I suppose it is because I don’t trust the landlord.