I lie to you,
for I wear a mask of lies.
Covering up the shadows of darkness
that engulf my eyes.
Like a sea of sorrow.
My dark brown irises tell a tale.
Of a phantom that overtook my conscience.
Holding the weapon of failure to my back.
The weapon of never being perfect.
A phantom that hovers over my head,
like a dark storm cloud,
holding my fears like thunder,
and my doubt like lightening.
Crashing down whenever I was alone.
The chilling hand of the phantom
touches my face as I look into the mirror.
“Not good enough.”
She whispers.
Her haunting eyes look straight at me,
like daggers piercing my heart.
But her striking eyes resemble a familiar fiery soul,
that has been far gone.
And at that moment,
the blur of deception disappears.
The mask of lies
falls to the floor.
This phantom,
who has haunted with lies and dishonesty,
is me,