I’ve been through a lot. I’ve experienced things a human being is not supposed to experience.
When I read poems, I understand I shouldn’t, because I have a way of interpret them into confirming how awful I am, even though the poem is about the opposite. But I’m not the awful one. I think.
This time, I’ve been lied to. Again. And it’s not the action that hurts me, but the lying. I’ve been promised trust and warmth, but has been given lies and a place of disgust, sorrow and pain.
But again, I am glad. Glad that the lies were told to me, because I have experienced things. Things a human being is not supposed to experience, so I can handle it.
I will just squeeze it in there, with all the other experiences, and let it smolder under my skin and never speak of it again.
I will put on that smile, that makes the compliments come, and pretend I’m fine.
I will just let my mind convince me I’m not worthy of trust and love, only lies and pain.