The truth set me free from the bonds that tied me down.

The truth helped me breathe in all this self hate spreading around.

The price was mental knots.

Sisters wont hear me out.

Memories to black to blot.

When will I figure out:

"How could hate can come from love?" or "Why has pulling crosses pushed me down?"

Truth. It's too hard love me.
Truth. I let the truth tell me what to do.
Truth. It's okay to judge me.
Truth. I wasn't born normal like all you.

I cant keep searching for someone who might care. (Have you been there?)

I can't keep crying to someone who might be listening. (Most people stand and stare.)

I whisper softly. I speak out hardly. The tired voice in my head's been wonder wondering:

Has the truth been haunting you?
Has the truth gotten you too?

I wander. Where do I go? They wonder: "When will you take off?"

They said mentally slow. Maybe alone I'll be safer. (Keep blending in.)

I whisper softly. I speak out hardly. The tired voice in my head's been wonder wondering:

"Is endless misery better than living alone?" Alone with the choice to love never or to remain forever alone...

I accept. It's too hard to love me.
I accept. That truth doesn't always work for you.

It's okay to judge me... I never will fit in with all of you.