At Least They're Committed

I’m like this little killdeer, running around with my wings down, crying and limping to draw the threat away from the truth. At least as a metaphor. Me? My ruse is happy and joyful and misleading. I hand them assumptions because they swallow them without question — it makes more sense — and it keeps me safe. My deception was never more intentional and dramatic than this week. It’s so obvious, but my broken wing act keeps them confused. But I wonder if you have me figured out. It’s fine if you do. I trust you to trust your instincts.