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The Lies In Your Head

The monsters under your bed

are not really there,

but instead,

they live only

inside your own head.


The lies you tell yourself,

you do not see.

You close your eyes,

so you can never know all the lies.


The worries that stop you

were seeds once,

planted by you.

Your worries water them,

and oh how they grow.


Oh how they grow…


The darkness you judge in others,

is not just in them.

The same thing you hate,

belongs to you too.


None of us are saints.


None of us are saints.


None of us are saints.


Still,

we always

throw the first stone.

A selfishness

that lives in our bones.


A selfishness

that makes the man dream

of sitting on a throne.

Down into the bones…

Down into the bones…



I am not a saint.


I am not a saint.


I am not a saint.


There is no joy

in pointing out the sins

of you and me,

but,

it is a good place to begin,

then we can start to learn

how to clean our lens,

that we see each other through.


-C.H.


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