I Lied-a poem from the heart of 12 year old me

           Last week I was going through a flash drive of mine and reading old files, when I found a number of poems I had written when I was twelve. Half of them were poorly composed fluff, but one of them stuck out to me… After some thought I decided I was going to publish that poem on here, I cut it up and rearranged it a bit, because it was very long and a bit repetitive, but other than that I changed nothing. Here is a poem from the heart of twelve year old Gray:

I Lied

Fears, they come in the form of tears.

Salt water leaking out of my heart, and into your hands.

Why was I ever so stupid enough to let you in?

To let you see so deep within my heart?

Why did I ever trust you when I was so blue?

I just can't touch the way I feel about you inside.

I've always been one to hide.

So I lied.

I told you I felt nothing.

But all I ever really do is hide behind that mask I always wear,

I have chosen to live in fear.

You asked me to take my mask down, but I was scared that you might frown.

Would you turn your back, If you saw that my heart was truly black?

You said no, so I let you in.

You screamed when you saw within.

I've always thought of myself as an apple, shiny red.

Perfect from the outside until you see inside my head.

I'm full of maggots-of sins.

Sometimes I wish I could just rip off my skin.

You say you love me despite my flaws.

But I see it.

I see the fear in your eyes, your love for me will soon wither and die.

You ask me if I'm okay,

I say I'm fine, that you are right,

my hurt didn't doesn't define me.

But guess what?

I LIED.

          That poem really made me think, true, I am more of a drama queen and this poem was probably just one of my hysterics, but the thought that I at some point felt like this kind of hurts.

         Who did I write this poem about? I don't know. I think I wrote it about how I couldn't keep most friendships together when I was twelve. I remember being really depressed about that, most girls my age didn't seem to like me, I grew up an outcast.

         Why did I decided to publish my poem on here? Because I know I wasn't the only one who felt this way, and I know others still do feel this way. I still feel this way sometimes. The “Sometimes I wish I could just rip off my skin.”part really hits close to home about how I feel when I sin or mess up.

           I'm not perfect, and I'll never be perfect. I feel like social media often makes people look perfect, even blogging. After all, how often do you see a blogger saying that they broke a promise or stole? How often do you see a post on instagram or facebook saying that someone failed their math test? Not often. And that's not necessarily a bad thing, but it can be if you let yourself believe that everyone else is always happy and their life is always sunshine and roses, because it's really not. Do you wanna know a secret? Those who look the most put together on the outside, are usually the ones shattering on the inside.

           Everyone is hurting in some way or another. But it always gets better, I promise. In fact, sometimes sadness or pain can turn out to be a blessing. It helped me discover my passion for writing, because I started writing as an escape from my loneliness in public settings, and then I ended up connecting with people through my stories and enjoying myself (more of that story in a future post)!

            My message for this post: don't give up. Everyone's been there, you're not alone. In fact, you were never alone.

            Happy Writing,