The Half-Truth
Location
I fake a smile,
And I think it looks real.
I doubt that a soul
Really knows what I feel.
I force a chuckle,
Then let out a sigh.
Just a few signs
That I'm telling a lie.
Ask how I'm doing,
I'll say that I'm fine.
Go ahead, ask,
And I'll mess with your mind.
You begin to speak;
I pretend to be listening.
You start to catch on
And ask what you're missing.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“I'm fine, can't you see?”
But the look in my eye
Doesn't quite agree.
You know me too well,
Yet not well enough;
You still can't tell
Why I'm acting so rough.
And before long,
Once more you ask me:
“Really, what's wrong?”
And this time not sweetly.
I make a choice:
“I'm really okay!”
But there's a tone in my voice—
Don't believe what I say.
You roll your eyes,
Which start getting wet;
Conversation dies,
Now we're both upset.
Well that did some good—
Now I feel worse.
I bite my tongue
To stifle a curse.
In rushes guilt,
And I start to feel sick.
My emotions tilt;
I have to think quick!
I come up with something
Before you can guess.
I tell you the half-truth,
Maybe even less.
Probably the latter,
And the reason is truth:
If I told you the matter,
Then you would hurt too.
