I’ve got a sweet tooth for untruths I speak when I think he is too bitter to handle new answers to old questions.
Part of me doesn’t care what he thinks of me because I’d be better off without him, but I don’t want him to bring the full weight of religious shame crashing down on my body.
Why do I find the forest more sacred than any church?
In nature, I can be a woman.
I try to maintain a semblance of integrity amidst the corrosivity of saccharine lies
Like going to bed without brushing my teeth after dessert, I know this is only wishful thinking.
What am I to do when he prods me with questions about my life that are none of his business?
I’ve already overshared and over cared.
Every time I repeat a lie to him because he is demanding that I relive painful experiences out loud against my will, it makes it harder to tell the truth.
He doesn’t treat me right. Even on our best days, he makes me pay for everything and do all the work to take care of him, so what do I owe him?
He has not demonstrated himself to be worthy of knowing my most personal memories, given his previous reactions.
Perhaps it is true that the truth will set me free, however I am too terrified to change my habits tonight.
Paradoxically, while I have not yet changed the habit of wrapping myself up in a protective cocoon of lies, I have changed the pattern of no longer flooding my body with sugar, which is a victory.