Sometimes to hide my wrongdoings or inattentiveness.
Sometimes to interact with people easier or faster.
Sometimes to just exert control over one aspect of my life... even if it is just the truth.
When I wake, the first words out of my mouth are lies: "Good morning!"
I almost always lie when I forget a task at work. I didn't receive that phone call. I never got that email. What deadline you never told me about.
I lie about where I go. My whereabouts are none of your business, so I create a lie so you never knew where I went, even it is nothing to hide.
I lie when you ask me if I drank and I lie about how many drinks I had.
No, I don't smoke.
I lie about my weekend. Oh, it was great. I didn't spend the time alone in bed, wishing I had something to do, somewhere to go, someone to spend it with it.
I lie with my face, smiling at your crude remarks, keeping my tongue still in my mouth.
I lie to my body, when she begs for a doctor or for a reprieve from the running trail or a hour more of sleep.
I don't need you and I don't want you. That lie always goes to the wrong man.
I lace the most benign aspects of my life with fable and fantasy for attention and my own amusement.
I like when it suits me, for the flimsiest of reasons. I forgive easily, when asked or not asked, because I know in my soul I sin without regard.
There aren't monsters, I assure my children in the night time. Monsters don't exist and I wouldn't allow them in our home.