It's finally making sense.
Everyone's h u r t i n g . . .
we're all in p a i n
[at some point.]
And it's okay to ask for h e l p.
It doesn't make you weak
and it doesn't mean you've failed.
It means
you've done the right thing.
Because you will get better.
I know sadness
can be almost
addictive.
But there is a t u r
.tniop g n i
And everything begins to make sense.
There was this one time
when my friend
called my smile
u g l y
so I just stopped smiling.
And that was that.
And then she called me
b e a u t i f u l
but I still didn't
believe her.
But it doesn't matter
whether I'm
u g l y or b e a u t i f u l
because if anyone
is shallow enough
to [not] be friends with me
because of my appearance
then they're not worth having.
But, personally . . .
. . . I think you're all b e a u t i f u l.
YOU ARE READING
My Lies
PoetryThe average person tells four lies a day, one-thousand, four-hundred and sixty a year, and eighty-seven-thousand and six-hundred by the age of sixty. And the most common lie is: "I'm fine." Cᴏᴘʏʀɪɢʜᴛ © 2013/2014 - InkButterfly
