I lied.
I had so many fears and insecurities that
I lied.

When I told you in elementary school that
As a joke instead of Mother Teresa,
My friends called me Mother Mary
Because I was that kind and caring,
I lied.

I lied because I couldn't bear to tell you the truth.
And after I lied the pride in your eyes reminded me that
Having you believe I was popular and loved was better than the truth.

And I'd come home with stories of correcting teachers and helping my classmates in their studies because
I was THAT smart,
I lied.

I lied because the truth was embarrassing.

I lied because then you thought I was smart
And if I did well in school all our problems would disappear.

I lied because the truth hurt me more than the regret
Of my expert deception.

And all the lying made me a better liar.

So now I can tell you that I defended that girl from the bully.
So now I can tell you that I'm okay.
So now I can tell you that depression was a phase
And my jokes of wanting to die are only that, jokes.

Because the truth hurts me more than the regret of lying.

The truth is

I wasn't mother-like to anyone because no one liked me.
I walked alone at recess stuffed in a book escaping the reality that I was unpopular.

The truth is

I wasn't THAT smart.
I sat in the back and didn't pay attention
Because knowing that they night daddy would call mommy a wh**e
Distracted me from my multiplication tables.

The truth is

I didn't defend that girl from the bully.
I was that girl and I believed I didn't deserve to be saved
So when the bully claimed me I took it.

The truth is I am not okay.

The truth is depression still haunts me every hour of every day

The truth is every joke is based on the truth.

The truth is

The truth hurts.