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Lying are the lips
I speak,
My mouth burns as if I were eating salty chips with a busted lip
It hurts a little
But not enough to stop
Because I never really stop, it might decrease maybe the way I tell these tales change
But I learn, I laugh, I lie
Salt in the wound is no longer enough
I feel my lips moving
My tounge flopping
And my mind wicked
Every word
Every word of it untrue, but I almost find comfort in the burn
I'm used to it
Maybe one day it'll change
I'll stop, I'll breathe, I'll be honest and it'll fall but till then I'll continue with this habit
Lying are the lips
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My mum always used to tell me "lying are the lips" whenever I'd tell a small lie and it really stuck with me