Step back and take a look at what you've done. What you've said. Was it important? Was it valuable? Worth it? How can we stop ourselves from making these continuous mistakes?
I'm sorry I lied again. I apologize for falling under pressure. I see myself now and what I did wrong. Say nothing! Speak! Sometimes it's better to keep your mouth shut. My tracks were laid, but I took a left. I thought it was such a grand idea! I saw myself as taking control of the situation. How wrong I was. My ego nonetheless puffed out as others went along. I kept lying to the reflection staring patiently. The yearning for truth, stuck to her face brought me to my feet. I cannot bear it any longer. She wails silently and waits patiently. I owe it to her. I owe it to myself to stop the stories.
Always double check your words before they escape.
I am perturbed by my actions. They were cruel. Disheartening. Irrational. Rushed. Self-imposed. The lies comforted me. They swaddled my cold body and serenaded me to sleep. They were my comrades when no one wanted me. The lies fed my hunger for security. I kept running. Sprinting for the dark corner where my lies squeezed me tight and told me how awesome I was. The point where two walls met began to mold. A squishy, moist friend building its filth. Spreading right, left, up and down. Little droplets of secretion stuck to my fingerprints. Minuscule thick hairs sprouted from the droplets. A patch of dead grass prodding out my dermis layer. These were my friends. My family. The ones who cared. The ones who loved. But then the reflection had enough. She tore herself out of the mirror and ripped me from the dark corner. My home. I kicked and screamed, scratched at her innocent skin. Her patience had thinned out.
"Stop it! Get a hold of yourself!" she yelled.
I shook ferociously under her clenched hands digging into the spaces between my shoulder blades.
"Okay," I cried.
I owed it to her. I owed it to myself.
So I stopped.