tipping, richard.

many lies have been told about me.
i wrote the lies down,
but that didnt make the reason for the lies any clearer to me
and i am left bewildered and confused.

i made the words bigger
in hopes that i would find some understanding in them.
but they stand unyielding before me,
immovable and suffocating.

i made the words smaller,
hoping they would disappear.
but they stay like a stain.
persistent and insisting.

i tried to burn the words away,
but only burnt myself.
and now i have deep scars on my skin,
and the enduring ache of memory.

i tried to cut the words from my page,
but i only cut myself.
and i mourn the blood loss,
that i will never get back.

i try to remember my life,
and words that make me strong.
but the lies rake and tear at my skin,
cutting me from the earth.

i live,
and all i have are pieces of the truth.
but with these little pieces,

i am unflinching and unforgiving.


******

i want to be pretty too. why cant i be pretty, like all those other girls..