literature

maybe i'll die for the truth

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Published: Sep 29, 2010

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Literature Text

_{when i was seven, i forgot how to be a kid, and i grew up, and once you grow up, you rarely grow down. when i was fourteen, you told me i made you sad to talk to, and that i should cheer up and look around at all the beautiful things in the world, but you can't see the beauty in things that sicken you. you can't pretend that the world is alright when people are dying and starving and crying and wars are being fought and the right people are losing and the wrong ones are winning-you can't see beauty in these types of things.

when i was seventeen, you told me i was beautiful, but the wrong kind. and i thought, how can you be the wrong kind of beautiful, but you showed me how when you kissed my cheek and lied and i realized you meant the kind of beautiful thats broken. when i was nineteen, you laughed when i told you i was depressed and so i laughed too, because maybe it's all one big joke, but not really, because you can't joke about being sad all the time.

when i was leaving for new york, you told me you loved me. and i told you i loved you, back. and i meant it with all of my heart and i meant it so quietly and lovely because it was a secret i was entrusting to you, but it turned out you meant it in a friendly way. and when i told you i might kill myself, and you assumed it was because my job was horrible, a piece got lost inside of me. lodged inside my throat. and i stopped talking, and i stopped forgetting and remembering, and i stopped thinking, and i stopped going places, and i stopped breathing in the world, and i started to become numb and dull and lost and forgotten. like a piece of paper with a name and no address.

and it always seems to turn out that someone means it another way. there's always some hidden meaning behind every word, every sentence, every touch. and i just want to hear the honest truth for once, i just want someone to be there and to look me in the eyes and tell me to slow down and mean it truthfully, and not like i'm driving somewhere too fast. and maybe i just need a reason to live, now a days, because it seems that you don't care and i'm not enough and i'm fighting a war inside of myself, and the right side is losing and the wrong side is winning, and the only way to solve a war is for someone to die for something.

so maybe i'll die for the truth.}