Whats true to me, a writing assignment

8th grade English assignment


What’s true to me?
Really, I don't know anymore.
A while ago you could have asked me
and I could have written a thousand things,
but I wouldn't really know what they meant to me

slowly reality has simply become one big fat lie.
The world can be so easily crumbled
shattered like glass against
concrete, the shards piercing my body and
drawing blood and making scars.

The truth has been stretched, altered
made to sound so sweet, but
it holds such bitter meaning underneath
the layers. Others have been fooled by
its sweet taste, but i recoil from it like it was fire.

My truth?
I’ve never really fit in, always
hiding in a shell that's too small to
hold all i want to say.

I don't feel the way others feel, or
think the way I am supposed to. This can
be a blessing, but more often it only serves as
a curse, a taboo against social interaction.

I disappear into worlds that can only
hold me for so long. When I return, it’s
with the feeling of emptiness, the feeling of
being ripped out of where you belong.

My only true friends are like me, socially
out casted and shunned from what
others call reality. What others
call the truth

to me, the only truth left is that
there are only lies, only disappointment
and suffering left
for the world.

Not for me of course, I have my moments of bliss
and my moments of true truth, when
I find someone who thinks as
differently as I do.

My truth is that something’s
are better left under the rug,
even if you trip over them later.

My truth is that I am the one
who outcasts myself, the one
who truly bullies me into submission

My truth is that I don't really trust
anyone, or anything for
fear that it will be taken away

My truth is that I help others
more than I help myself, believing
that a broken tool can’t fix a broken bike

My truth is that my life is only so stable,
only held together my cheap glue and
tape

My truth is that I have a side no
one has seen, and that
no one will ever see.

My truth is that I'm not proud to be a liar,
but I still do it every day, to
everyone I know.

My truth is that I’m insecure, I'm
scared and ashamed and
so I release on paper, the only place I can.

Don’t tell me it’s too long, that
you wanted it short and sweet,
because you said you wanted my truth, and that's
what I give.

there is too much bottled up inside to summarize
what I feel, how I view the world and
how I see what’s wrong with this
place we all call reality.

My truth? What’s true to me?
The only thing that stands true it that there will
always be lies, always
be someone who will stab your back
and blame it on someone else.

But even so, life is always worth
living, so that you can pick up
the betrayed and give a tiny
ray of light to their dimming souls.

I was lucky to be lifted from the ground.
And now the truth is I want to do the same