Sweeping Truth

Everything is not okay.

I am not fine.

But I can be because that’s what

you want to hear.

I’m smiling so fucking big,

but my face doesn’t move.

Maybe I’m smiling on the inside

is what I tell you…

and you believe it every time.

Even though you know it’s not true,

it could never be true.

But the truth is a funny thing…

messy like secrets

swept under that magic carpet.

Out of sight, out of mind.

It never even happened.

Didn’t it, though?

Your priorities are fucked sometimes,

most of the time.

I deserve this… all of it.

But I don’t want it, so take it.

Take it all.

Leave me with nothing

but the stains from the dreams

I once had,

smeared dirty under that rug.

Leave the rug.

I will gather the truth from beneath,

filthy as it may be,

hold it for a while

before I make you taste it.

The way it hurts when you finally

swallow it, the way it burns your insides

just enough to make you sick.

Tell me how it tastes

after you acknowledge it.

Tell me if you approve of the way

the truth thickens

when it sits so long.

Then tell me how much you love me

under this roof built solid

with nothing more than

a flimsy fucking deck of cards,

and I’ll say, love you too,

despite the collapse,

despite the rug, despite your perfected

ability to look the other way

any time it fucking matters..

And in spite of me

because that’s what I taught myself

I deserve…

because that’s what you taught me

I deserve.

I’ll even thank you.

-Stephanie Bennett-Henry

#stephaniebennetthenry

4 thoughts on “Sweeping Truth

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