My Life

The Truth

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A little over a year ago, I began writing in a form that I never had before. At first, I called it “poetry”. Then I thought maybe “prose” was a better description. Over time, I have come to think of it simply as a stream of consciousness, an unveiling of truth.

Today, I am sharing a little piece of that with you. Someday I hope to release all of my work in the form of a book, but it could be years from now before I deem my work “complete”.

So for now, I give you “The Truth”.

 


 

The Truth

(7-16-18)

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Here, I’ll tailor my words for you.

Fit them into your box and wrap them in a pretty little bow.

Here, I’ll dull myself down for you.

Give you only what you can take without challenging your view of me.

 

You think you know who I am.

You think you know what I want.

Here, I’ll smile for your camera.

Say your words and pretend they feel like home. 

 

I shut myself down because that’s what it took to survive. 

I stopped listening to my own truth because it hurt too much. 

I silenced myself, put a smile on my face, told you I was happy.

 

But I was numb. 

I was lonely and I was numb.

 

I am known for being hopeful.

I still am.

The light always penetrates my darkest places.

 

But the scary thing is how easy it is for me to turn my pain into poetry, and make you believe it is something beautiful.

 

When I cry, I see my tears as stars.

I am always in awe of them.

This does not change the fact that sometimes living feels like dying.

 

Here, I’ll give you the truth.

Only a small piece because there is too much to take in.

Here, I’ll show you my heart.

You cannot keep it, it is not yours to decorate.

 

I must take back the keys to my home before I allow everything to be stolen.

Before everything has changed to fit your taste.

 

The guest bedroom, I designed it just for you.

So you could wake up, so you could rest.

So you would not be alone in your pain.

 

But darling, you do not get to stop me from running through my house covered in mud from playing in the rain.

 

You do not get to turn off the music and close all the windows. 

 

I did that for you, but I cannot do it anymore.

I might die if I stay this way, suffocated in the darkness I created just for you.

Breaking my bones tiptoeing around to please you. 

 

You can enter my home, you can rest here; it is a safe place. 

It is a quiet place in a loud world. 

But darling, we have to keep the windows open.

We have to let the music play.

I have to hold on to the key.

 

Here, now you have the truth.

Do with it what you will.

Here, now you’ve seen my heart.

Please be gentle with it.

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