truth

Nobody knows what I truly feel
I wish I could share it
Let them all know
That's how it should be
All of us sharing
Not being pressured to change
To be something other than we are
What's the point of being truthful
If no one cares
Why can't we all just be who we are
Not try to change
What the truth is
I'm so sick of this charade
We all put on
So I'm not doing that
I'm gonna be myself
And not care
What they think
They don't matter
It's my life
And I'm gonna live it
The way I want to
So if you don't like it
I'm sorry
This is me
The real deal
Is it really so hard
To accept that we are who we are
And nothing can change that
So suck it up
And be yourself
That's the cold, hard truth
And how it all should be

The place is at the back of a classroom,
and the verb is "breathe".
I'm leaning in, my mouth inches away from the back of her neck,
and I can't get it right-
the right balance of gentle air
and quiet heat
to send shivers up her spine.
That is all I want,
I swear.
Just an awkward, jerky physical reflex
because we are both bored
and she wants to know.

So do I.

And now the place is the hallway
and the verb is "tiptoe".
She is standing as tall as she can
and she's trying to reach her breath to the back
of my neck
to make me laugh,
but she keeps making sudden movements
and breathing too quickly, too definitely, for me to relax.
She tips off her toes,
and I suggest we don't do this in public.
"But we're always in public," she says,
and I know that she is right.
Even so,
we are this close.

The time line is a whole year,
and the adjective is "changed".
We started out as polar opposites, and we still differ.
But now, we mirror in more ways than one.

I'll never forget the day
That he visited me
Everyone said that he was crazy
That everything he said
Was nothing but crazy-talk
And that's what I thought too
Until I actually listened
To what he had to say

"Truth is like a blanket
That is just too small.
You can try and try
To cover yourself completely
But it'll never work
You'll only be able
To cover your face,

I always think that
I understand
everything

until a new truth
taps me on the
shoulder,
blinks,
smiles,

and twirls away
as I just stand there

gawking.

Pretending to myself
that now
I understand.

Being naked
feels so much different
than I thought it would.
Not embarrassing.
Not awkward,
no, not
at all.

I never realized how heavy my clothes were,
how much I
never actually needed them,
until I
finally told him,
and suddenly
my stomach stopped clenching.
I was shaking and I
was so nervous that
his eyes blurred in front of me,
fading into
brown smears,

I’m just a child
That doesn’t know better
Than to hide
From the truth.

Livin’ my life in
A world that don’t matter
At all
To you.

Surrounded by liars
And hateful suspicion
I just don’t know
What to do.

You look at me
I look at you
I smile at you
You don't know what to do

You're with your "friends" so you can't say "Hi"
but you'll come running over once they leave and you say "bye"

Around me you cry and laugh and let your gaurd down
why can't you be like that when your "friends" are around?
Because around them you laugh at me, and make dirty jokes