~What's Your Truth~

   I see you there, sitting in your rocking chair. You're acting like you don't care, but I think you do. My brazin' attitude kinda' made you feel like you got screwed, but it's not you that was pinned under that screw, now was it? The things that you remember in the December of your life don't include the strife or the pain of that knife that twists inside me, that you've blinded yourself to see. Why is that, Aunt B? You heard rumors you said, while I was being dragged from my bed as my mother bled to look at your "poor brothers" bump on the head that he got while he was scorching hot and in a blind rage. You said ,"I don't believe you, just turn the page." Don't you know I turned that page a long time ago? I even told you so, it's not me that can't let go.   

   Do you even know who I am? Your "memories" are a sham and you're trying to run a scam selling magic beans for a cow. What's the story now? Did you really think that you could sink the truth by placing all the weight of this on my back? Did you think that I would retract, change the bloody red to black? Recoil like a snake and announce that I made a mistake? Maybe I'll join you in the market to sell some magic beans..., not by any means!

   You don't want to hear the truth, but I'm the living proof of a heinous childhood, am I understood? You were right, there is no more need to fight. It's all in the past but I will bring it back fast if you try to paint a pretty picture of it, Van Gogh. Hell no! That pretty picture is just not so. Why can't you just admit that you feel shame? The guilt that you feel is like cold steel, it's just too real so you're trying to conceal the facts of this matter. I'm not the "Mad Hatter". This is not a fairytale. Alice did fall down that hole and you can't control the way this truth is told. Does it make you feel old? Do you feel too weak to defend the way this truth will unfold? There is no happy end. I'm sorry my friend, It's a truth that I can't resend, so you can mend your "tender sensitivities." It's not my job to appease, to say ,"yes maam and please" just to ease the infectious disease that was sired with you. You requested that I "stop this train" maybe you feel that, will stop your pain, but it won't. Meanwhile you'll keep looking in vain for shelter from this acid rain but the truth will remain, the truth. Can you live with it, or are you gonna' take it to your grave? You could be brave and not die your brother's slave...,
but I don't think you will.