Movies like Closer are way too realistic.

I can’t get this rhythm out of my head, it goes something like
“lies, lies, lies, I feel like lies, I felt like lying, I lied, you lied, lies, lies, lies…”
And it might trail off into an ending with gusto, infused with romance, but despite the glamour lies present, it’s all a sham. Like washed up porn stars and late night television. Meant to entertain, but never satisfies. Satisfied. Where do I want to be? Present tense or past tense? If I could go back in time, I would go back to the moment I was born, as myself. I would walk into the room and everyone would be like “Who are you?” And I would say “I am myself 19 years from now, could we have a moment alone?” They would then proceed to say “No!” And I would be pushed out of the room, but on the way out I would yell something to myself, something epic or cliché. Maybe both.
No, I would tell myself to never believe a word you say, and then I could stay with you forever because whenever I find out that the words you said and the things you kept from me were all lies, it wouldn’t hurt or bother me at all. I could say “oh, ok.” And you would say “I’m sorry,” since that’s what you do best, and then we would kiss and like a little kid my boo-boos would disappear, with just that, a kiss. Wouldn’t life be grand if I could time travel?

You keep me awake at night with your smile while a voice scrapes away the wallpaper on my insides that says “You should have let him go.”

(I feel guilty for even writing this. I wish I didn’t. Didn‘t feel guilty or didn‘t write, you pick.)