gut - Interlude

It feels right
But
Me and my gut
Have been in an ugly rut
Battling to make sense of space
Blinded by the spell binding nature of a beautiful face
So much so that we don’t follow the words of a practiced tongue
Schooled in years of not only deception, but the grandest kind
Self-deception
Painting themselves in either holes or broken deception
And like a lamb to the slaughter I falter
Tripping over such well-versed deceit
And my love is made cheap