True, you threw deceitful words into a screen that vibrated when the clock stroke towards infidelity. True, you suffocated the truth from my throat, from my heart, and dangled it on the edge of reality, waiting for it to fall down and die. You completely and utterly killed the truth. True, I counted the bottles of empty souls; two, four, six, eight. True, you swallowed them in the middle of the night when everyone who was safe hid in the darkness. True, you ruined and destroyed everything pure, including me. I entered this world without a clue of how I will turn out. Without a clue how destiny aligned my stars. True, you taught me to never trust anyone. To never love or appreciate love. True, you made me question my image, of who I appear to the world, and to be ashamed of it. True, I will never understand a bond between two souls. I never saw a strong one to begin with—so why assume that such a thing exists? True, you made me ashamed to be a woman. I belong in the kitchen, I belong on the bathroom floor, I belong anywhere but here or there or there or there. True, you taught me that emotions are worthless. True, I cannot cry. All tears have been wasted dry. True, I underestimate myself. I am capable of more yet constricted by your thoughts.
Yet all along you were false.
[ found in the journal of a girl with too many I can'ts ]
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
