All lies limp

She was naught but a troublesome memory. A distraction from the world's bitter sorrows. The beauty which she was, all from the screen.

A friend in denial, she had endured and battled trials. Terrible as it was, she fought on, living, and fighting. For why shouldn't she? She had to, she had a daughter; she must keep on fighting.

I was naught but a weakling, saddled with burdens too heavy to care about it all. Beset on all sides: family, life, work... It was all burdens too heavy to share. Yet she carried heavier burdens, and fell to no despair.

Of course the story isn't about me. Its about her. This mystery woman. Did I fall in love? No. But certainly I was fascinated enough to write about it once again. The fascination stemming from the fact that it was all lies that pulled her through the heavy chains of life.

All lies limp when the fear sets in. All lies was her name. Her eyes hiding lies but telling hidden truths; hidden under the facade, under those smiles and cheery laughs, all of which were fake, all lies. Not for her sake, but for her daughter. She hides the truth and the pain and the fear and the guilt. All of these lies lay limp upon her great determination.

In between jobs she worked, not for herself, but for her daughter. All lies, she said all day. "I quit tomorrow," "today's the last day." "Just finish today, and end tomorrow." All of these were her lies. The lies she'd tell herself not to quit, to keep going, in the face of despair, she ploughed through with nothing but all lies.

All lies about quitting, but never will she stop.

And if you ever read this, All lies... Never stop lying.