Stories of My Truth
The balls you have are quite amazing, and yet I’d always considered you more of a bitch
When I protected you with my life, you chose him
It’s funny, I’ve always felt like our roles were reversed
I was always forced to be the strong one when things were at their worst
You make me want to write stories with happy endings, where every child grows up feeling loved and adored
You make me want to write stories where revenge takes place, or at least the truth is told
Not your truth, the one where no one remembers what happened
Stories of my truth, where a child can go blind and the parent just refuses to get them help, and takes away the child’s pain medicine
Stories of my truth, where the person you adore abandons you
And the person who’s job it is to protect you, finds a way to be there for everyone except you
Stories of my truth where the events are denied, and in the end becomes more painful than the actual abuse
Stories of my truth, the kind where I tell you what I do blame you for
The difference is, that for once you listen and acknowledge the pain
You give up your stupid excuses, and acknowledge that my story hasn’t had a happily ever after
Stories that account for every scar on my skin and all the pain in my heart
Stories that reflect the struggle to love one’s self, when no one really modeled unconditional love
Someday, the stories of my truth will be brighter…

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