The Liar

I lie,
I know I do.
My lie is simple -
my lie is that I'm okay.

My being radiates joy
but it is merely the costume
-the prop-
for the play.

My sorrow runs deep
and my lie only covers
surface space.
You only see the lie.

I want to heal,
to be honest again,
but I don't know how
to make the lie the truth.

Companionship to heal my heart,
or something to come from within
or maybe a needed closure
with the creator,

the one who makes me lie.
I lie to hid my broken heart,
the heart that can't seem to heal,
but I lie to say I'm okay.

It makes me sad
to see you believe,
but maybe it would hurt more
if you were to know the truth.