True words can lie
in the palm of your hands.

Like a strand of long time
thoughts, not being picked
up by the broken fingers that
are used to wipe your tears away.

Like a liquor bottle being
shattered onto the floor
after you used it for ten,
wasteful drinks.

The true words you used to
hear would make you fly,
up to the heavens above.
while he stands.

Standing there with a smile.
Thinking of how lucky he
is to have you.
How lucky he is to be with you.

I stand waiting.
Watching as the time goes
by quickly.
Looking back into the mirror.

Wondering why wasn't I perfect?
How can I?
Color my hair from a gruesome
brown to a beautiful blond?

Maybe pierce my nose
with a diamond stud?

Maybe cut my hair short
cause he likes it better that
way anyways.
That's what they're all doing.

Maybe cut back from day to day
meals that you spend thinking on minute after minute about what
you should eat.

I walk into school and I see you.
In your perfect Holister clothes,
flat belly and that genuine,
short blond hair.

I look back thinking of the true
words that you used to say to me.

Beautiful. Special. Mine.

Those words kept in a diary,
locked away in my brain.
Keeping the gossip, secrets
and lies. Some said,

Your fat. Ugly. Gross.

Those true words that stay
for life.

The ones that stick on you
like glue to a piece of paper
that was once claimed
homework.

Or maybe stapled on like your
heart was when it was broke.

Now,

I sit in my bedroom
and think of those
true words that were
said. I ask,

"Are they true?"

Maybe that children
rhyme that you heard
go around the playground
was right.

Sticks and stones may
break my bones...
But words
will never hurt me.

Words are like pictures
you see.
You look at the canvas
and stroke.

The brush can only paint
of what you hear.
It can only color
of what you see.

The only pictures
that will make you
happy are the only ones
in your dreams.

The ones that will
carry you off into the
clouds like she
once did.

And he will stand there.

With a smile on his face
thinking,
how lucky he is to have
you and only you.

How lucky he is to be with you.

Not with some tramp who has been pregnant four times.
Or make up painted of her face to match her lip glossed lips.

This dream will only
end with the
true words you want
to hear.

The ones that will make you feel
Special,
Beautiful,
His.

Those words that begin in the
morning and
end with the night.
The ones that say,

I love you.