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The truth in my lies
September 19, 2013
A razor to your wrist for each unshed tear.
I can’t cry. I’m not weak. Sometimes I need to bleed- just so I know that I’m alive.
A gash across your skin for each unspoken word.
I hold things back to protect people. They shouldn’t have to hear my voice. What I think about them isn’t their business.
A razor to your wrist for each lie told.
I lie to protect myself. To give myself a reason to cry. I lie to everyone. Especially those I care about.
A gash across your wrist for each heart broken.
Don’t worry, it’s usually my own
© Xiao H., Naperville, IL
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