I know the truth.
I guess that is all that matters.
That white one shouldered dress,
that clung tightly to my hips,
like a woman to her lover.
I know the truth.
Maybe that dress had been removed,
but nothing was given away.
Dispite common belief.
Even through a thick haze of drugs and alcohol,
I know the truth.
"It doesn't matter what anyone says
or what they think"
That's what I tell myself.
But I know, with the wholeness of my being,
that I care.
I am not a ****.
I was younger then, not by much,
but younger.
And I didn't know that you could turn
me into something used and tainted,
frowned down upon by others.
I didn't know that your few words and a mischievous grin
could turn me into something I am not.
But I knew the truth.