The truth is, truth hurts.
It especially stings in the corners of old dirt covered scars.
The ones you concealed from your eye sockets.
The truth is, lies are easier to believe.
The lies you strung out over soul topics.
You are afraid and you are a coward.
The two things you tried so desperately to dodge.
Realizing you are a source of pain makes all tasks heavy.
The truth is, I became lies while thinking I was truth.
Maybe one day I'll throw up my cigarettes and broken heart pieces so I can finally heal
Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
The truth is, truth hurts.
It especially stings in the corners of old dirt covered scars.
The ones you concealed from your eye sockets.
The truth is, lies are easier to believe.
The lies you strung out over soul topics.
You are afraid and you are a coward.
The two things you tried so desperately to dodge.
Realizing you are a source of pain makes all tasks heavy.
The truth is, I became lies while thinking I was truth.
Maybe one day I'll throw up my cigarettes and broken heart pieces so I can finally heal
Request permission to use this poem